GHOSTS OF YORKTOWN

THE GUARDIANS OF LEGACY™

BOOK THREE

MARTHA CARR

MICHAEL ANDERLE

This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.

Copyright © 2025 LMBPN Publishing

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Version 1.00, March 2025

ebook ISBN: 979-8-89354-331-5

Print ISBN: 979-8-89354-496-1

THE GHOSTS OF YORKTOWN TEAM

Thanks to our JIT Readers

Christopher Gilliard

Diane L. Smith

Dave Hicks

Dorothy Lloyd

Jeff Goode

Jan Hunnicutt

Editor

SkyFyre Editing Team

CHAPTER ONE

Gerald Sposato’s boots crunched on the snow as he paced through the trees. The clear roads on the way had tricked him into thinking his jaunt through the thick forest would be less of a chore.

He smiled, the weight of his backpack all but forgotten. The day had turned into a long, tense workout, but it was all worth it now that he had found the site: a perfect circular clearing that cried out for investigation.

He had also learned his lesson. The crew would need equipment to excavate the site, starting with snowblowers and shovels. The dense trees prohibited cars or trucks from driving to the clearing despite only being a few miles from Yorktown in one direction and Newport News in the other.

Gerald walked along the clearing’s edge. Small vehicles like ATVs or UTVs would have to do. His cousin had excavated his backyard for a gardening project using a backhoe not much bigger than a motorcycle. He would have his assistant investigate renting one of those.

The logistics could wait. He held up his phone to double-check the coordinates, grateful to have cell reception. They were near a town, but poor reception wouldn’t have surprised him.

“Yep, it’s here.” Gerald shivered and rubbed his shoulders. “Is it just me, or did it just get a lot colder?” he called to the two people behind him.

“We’ve been walking through a forest in the snow for over an hour,” his cameraman Jesse replied. “And it’s January. Of course, it’s cold.”

Gerald frowned. That was not it. The temperature had dropped ten degrees, and he felt like he was being watched.

He grinned at his pounding heart. Fear and excitement were the same things, just viewed from a different angle. They swirled together to create the perfect atmosphere for an audience. His dread would be easy to play up during voiceover.

He motioned Jesse forward. “Circle the clearing. Play up the sinister look of the trees and their height. I want people to feel like Little Red Riding Hood, stuck in the forest with the wolf coming for her.”

Jesse groaned and lifted his camera. “The trees aren’t that tall. I’ll have to get on my knees in the snow.”

“Just do it.”

Jesse rolled his eyes and offered a mocking salute. “Whatever.”

Gerald walked the perimeter, holding up his hands to frame shots. “I could start with how we take snow for granted in modern times, but the American and British troops were dealing with a harsh winter during the siege. I could refer to Valley Forge. People love that.”

His production assistant Melody jogged up beside him, her bright pink winter coat contrasting with her dark hair. She held up her phone. “The Battle of Yorktown wasn’t fought in the winter, Gerald. I just looked it up. September 28, 1781, to October 19, 1781.”

Gerald rolled his eyes. There was nothing more annoying than a know-it-all.

He shrugged. “I’m sure there was snow on the ground. You’re new. Think in terms of storylines, not facts.”

“We’re a history show. That’s a type of reality show.”

“Reality needs a storyline for the audience to enjoy it.”

Melody took a deep breath and let it out, her exhalation visible in the chilly air. “Gerald, I saw nothing about snow in my background research. Accounts suggest it was windy, though.”

Gerald tried to snap his fingers. His gloves turned the attempt into a quiet squeak. “That’s a good idea.”

“What’s a good idea?” Melody tilted her head and gave him a doe-eyed stare.

“When we snow-blow the clearing, we could talk about harsh winds tossing equipment and men all around the battlefield.”

Melody shook her head. “Not a hurricane, Gerald.”

“Drama.” Gerald rolled his eyes. “We need to frame this for the audience to keep their blood pumping.”

“You don’t think finding an archaeological site linked to the last battle of the American Revolution is interesting enough?”

Gerald scoffed. “This is why you’ll stay a PA and never make it to the big leagues.”

Melody folded her arms and frowned. “Excuse me?”

He motioned at the clearing’s center. “Gerald’s Secret History is about lost treasure, conspiracy, and the thrill of knowing the country's secrets.” He spun and pointed at Melody’s face. “That’s what my audience tunes in for. Never forget that.”

Melody sighed and rolled her eyes. “Yes, Gerald.”

“This is my chance to show up those Oak Island guys.” He laughed. “I don’t even have to find treasure, just a cool site.”

Melody rubbed her hands together. “Remember. the producers haven’t gotten the permits yet.”

Gerald frowned at her. “You told me that this morning. Why are you telling me again?”

“Because we can’t start digging until we get them.”

Gerald gestured to her and his cameraman. “We’re not digging yet. We’re scouting.”

“You want to dig now. The crew is coming in tomorrow. When I scheduled them, you told me the producers would have the permits by now.” Melody looked annoyed.

“Nobody will throw us in jail for digging a hole in the middle of nowhere even though we don’t have a piece of paper.” Gerald scoffed. “This isn’t the first time we’ve started exploring a site before all the paperwork was handled. It’ll work out, and besides, we have the landowners’ permission. The owners are the main problem.”

“The government⁠—”

“Screw the government,” Gerald interrupted. “We have the rights to whatever we find. That’s rare.” He laughed. “The stupid bastards who signed off don’t even know what they gave up. We’ll find a cannonball or something and donate it to the Smithsonian to get the feds off our back.”

Gerald frowned. “Look for atmospheric shots. After that, since you reminded me, double-check that the excavation crew will arrive on time, then see about renting us something that can haul equipment but is small enough to get through the woods.”

Melody’s shoulder slumped. “Yes, Gerald.” She sighed and wandered away, muttering under her breath.

Gerald didn’t have time to housebreak his latest assistant. He went through a new one every six months. Establishing shots would begin the storyline for the latest season of his show.

He lifted his phone and started recording. The best way to test out lines was out loud. “As I stand in Southeastern Virginia, deep in woods covered in a fairy-dust layer of snow, it’s easy to lose sight of the fact that I’m only miles from the historical hamlet of Yorktown, where America began.” Gerald grinned, liking the spin. “A tiny combined American and French force faced a massive British detachment.”

Melody groaned. “We talked about this yesterday. The combined American and French armies outnumbered the British and Hessian forces. You told me that when I started this job!”

“Most of my viewers are American. They like it when Americans are the underdogs. I told you that, too.” Gerald waved her away and continued his monologue. “Washington was there. Lafayette was there. Hamilton was there. Like the song says, it was the battle that turned the world upside down. General Cornwallis would surrender, ending the main hostilities in the Revolutionary War.”

Melody looked his way. He couldn’t tell from her expression if she was impressed or annoyed.

He paused for dramatic effect. “It didn’t end without blood, sweat, and bullets. Hundreds of soldiers perished in the battle, their cries echoing to this day, though many of their stories are lost to history. Here and now, we will excavate a small British defensive structure called a redoubt that has sat undisturbed for centuries, covered by the forest. This was once the edge of the British defenses, and now it is a hidden graveyard.” He eyed Jesse across the clearing, ready to turn this practice session into a real shot.

Melody’s expression changed. She shuddered and looked around.

Gerald hadn’t gone for frightening. Changing the voiceover in that direction might be a better strategy. “What secrets will we find inside? There are rumors of treasures smuggled in by General Cornwallis and hidden from the Continental Army. Have they waited just miles from town for over two hundred years, the final British insult to the Americans?”

Melody jogged toward him. “Gerald, I didn’t find anything about Cornwallis having a hidden treasure he buried in the forest. We’ve got nothing linking the Cornwallis treasure stories with this site, and those stories aren’t even about Virginia⁠—”

He cut her off with q raised finger and stopped recording. “Do you remember the first thing I told you?”

Melody groaned. “’As long as you say it’s a rumor, not a fact, you can avoid getting sued. That’s the network’s policy and the show’s policy.’”

“Good girl. Remember that.”

She shivered. “Doesn’t it bother you? People might have died here, and it’s like… I don’t know.”

“Like someone’s watching you?”

“Yes! It’s been insanely creepy since we stepped into this clearing.”

Gerald clapped once. “Perfect. I feel the same way. That means it has great atmosphere. There might be natural infrasound.”

“What’s infrasound?” Melody asked.

“It’s sound at a frequency lower than humans can consciously perceive, and it makes us uneasy. Many so-called haunted spots have infrasound.”

Melody’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

“I don’t think we can capture that with our equipment, but I can use it to color my performance.”

“You’re not unsettled?” Melody asked. “That makes sense, but I’m still freaked out.”

“When you’ve been doing this type of show as long as I have, you get used to it,” he replied. “It’s like a race car driver being used to high speeds.”

Despite his brave talk and scientific explanation, Melody’s reminder amplified the sinister air in the clearing. He kept telling himself that whatever he felt, the audience would feel twice as much. That would translate into ratings and viewer engagement. Discussing an oppressive atmosphere without having to lie would give the excavation an authentic feel.

Gerald ran his tongue around his mouth, lost in thought. “Your reaction proves we could spin this as a haunted site.”

Melody shuddered. “That’s not funny. You shouldn’t joke about it.”

“Why? Ghosts aren’t real. I explained what people feel when they say a place is haunted.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because I would have caught one on camera by now.” Gerald nodded, more enthralled with the idea than ever. “We don’t bring in silly night-vision equipment or wave meters around. We talk about rumors of ghosts wandering the woods and let the audience come to its own conclusion.” He gasped. “We can say there are rumors that British soldiers were buried alive by Cornwallis’ men to keep the treasure safe from the Americans.”

He threw back his hand and shouted, “I’m here to take your treasure, Cornwallis. Bring on your spectral guards.”

Melody shook her head and walked away. Gerald chuckled, liking that angle. He had not talked to the producers or network executives yet, but he had wanted to push his show in a supernatural direction for a while. The Yorktown excavation could serve as a transition season.

A flash of red passed behind a tree. Gerald turned that way and frowned. “Hey, did you see that?”

“See what?” Melody asked.

“You keep looking for shots.” Gerald jogged into the woods, kicking up snow with each step. “Jesse, with me!”

Jesse ran to catch up with Gerald, camera on his shoulder. “What is it?”

“Probably a stupid kid, but if we get good shots of us running through the woods chasing something blurred and human-shaped, it’ll be great for the storyline I’m cooking up.”

Gerald slowed as he approached the tree. He followed a wide path to avoid surprises. Nobody was there. “I know I saw something.” He looked up. “Maybe it was a drone.”

“Kind of hard to fly drones in here with all these trees,” Jesse remarked.

Gerald turned to him. “Did you get any of that?”

Jesse shook his head. “I’ve got a solid thirty seconds of you running through snowy woods like a madman.”

Gerald nodded. “That could work.” He gestured around. “Look for suspicious shadows. Get shots of them from a distance. We’ll splice it together later.”

Jesse swept the woods with his camera. “This is almost as annoying as trying to make those trees look taller.”

Gerald walked away from the clearing, trying to figure out what he’d seen. The cloudy day and trees cut down on the sunlight, but it wasn’t like they were stumbling around in the dark. He knew nothing about the local birds or whether they remained in the area during the winter. He looked back and forth, searching for a mysterious person—or bird—in red.

Anyone spying on him would jump at the chance to be on TV. A couple of leading questions, and he’d have on-screen justification for the rumors about Cornwallis’ secret treasure ending up buried in a long-lost bunker in Virginia.

He stopped. The crisp air still demanded a coat, but the deep cold was gone, as was the sensation that someone was watching him. “Nice.” He smiled. His attitude change proved the power of the new treasure-based storyline.

Gerald’s phone rang. He eyed the caller ID before answering. “Hello, Mr. Cornwallis. You have good timing. We reached the site not long ago.”

“I’m glad your adventure is treating you well, Mr. Sposato,” Mr. Cornwallis replied.

Gerald could not get over the man’s last name, given the location. He also had trouble with the man’s weird, old-fashioned accent. Cornwallis sounded like a movie star from the forties, and Gerald didn’t know if it was authentic or a pretension.

That didn’t mean he’d let Mr. Cornwallis know about his feelings, and they hadn’t met face-to-face, which simplified matters. He wouldn’t offend a wealthy man who’d all but begged the show to excavate the site.

Cornwallis denied being related to the Yorktown general, and he didn’t want a connection emphasized. The producers hadn’t found anything suspicious in the paperwork and records, so Gerald assumed it was a long-lost relative trying to get his ancestor’s attention.

“Thank you for this lead, Mr. Cornwallis,” Gerald continued, “and for your cooperation. Before I bring in my crew to excavate the site, I needed to verify you’re sure there’s something to dig up.” He didn’t care. He just wanted an excuse to claim there was proof on camera.

Cornwallis replied, “I assure you, on my honor and the honor of my family, that you’ll find something. I had my people verify that.”

“You’re sure you’re not interested in what we find?”

Cornwallis laughed, the sound a little mocking. “There’s no treasure, if that’s what you’re thinking. There are objects of archaeological importance, but I feel that exposing them to the world through your program will bring them to far more people’s attention than if I waited and went through traditional academic channels.”

Gerald headed back toward the clearing. “I hope you don’t mind, Mr. Cornwallis, but local informants offered rumors of a secret treasure inside. We’ll be discussing that during filming. I should note that your contract with the network entitles us to any items we find, provided we pass along photos and recordings.”

“Do whatever you desire. I’m comfortable with the contract. If I had the resources, I would have excavated the site myself. If you find a treasure, it’ll prove that the rebels and…excuse me.” Mr. Cornwallis chuckled. “It’ll be proof that General Cornwallis was a far cleverer man than history gives him credit for. You’ll have to excuse me. I wish you Godspeed and good luck with your excavation.”

“Call anytime you want, Mr. Cornwallis.” Gerald picked up his pace. “We wouldn’t have found this place without you.”

“True. Goodbye.”

The chill returned, along with that sensation of being watched. Gerald frowned and slipped the phone back into his pocket. Cornwallis’ accent and weird manner of speaking had gotten under his skin. He doubted being a few feet closer to the clearing would make a difference.

“You’re an idiot, Cornwallis,” Gerald stated. “We will find something valuable. I’m an executive producer on this show. I’ll get a cut, and you signed away everything.”

He threw his head to the side at movement and another flash of red. He squinted, not sure what he saw. “Stupid birds. Stop freaking me out unless you’re willing to do it on camera.”

CHAPTER TWO

Leah ran through the narrow hall with Jamie at her side. All the magazines on her tactical webbing rattled. Gunshots echoed in front of them. She tightened her grip on the M7 rifle.

The sound confirmed that her infantry squad was engaging their target. They hadn’t come to an Ohio aviation museum looking for a fight, but they had come prepared for one.

She needed to trust her hunters and the plan. She gritted her teeth. Dealing with an unpredictable threat increased the chance of casualties.

“We’ll get the target,” Jamie told her. “Nobody else will get hurt.”

“We get a couple of easy pickups, then end up in a situation like this.”

“Nobody’s dead, and they say all the hospitalized civilians will survive. We’ll make sure nobody from our unit dies.”

They sprinted out of the hall and into a hangar. She pivoted and ran past the side of a gray P-51 Mustang. The World War II-era fighter was in such good condition that she could imagine a pilot strapping in and flying away, much like all the other beautifully maintained historical craft in the museum’s main hangar.

Jamie glanced at the plane. “I would love to have visited this place under better circumstances.”

“If we stop the target, we can visit after they clean up.”

She peered across the hangar at the entrance to another hallway. According to the plan, their target would exit there.

Her radio crackled to life. “Legacy One, this is Minuteman One. Minuteman Two is down.”

Heart pounding, she slid to a stop and looked over her shoulder to ensure Jamie wasn’t falling behind. He nodded at her.

“This is Legacy One,” Leah replied. “Does Minuteman Two require medevac?”

Legacy Operations Command’s work was classified and compartmentalized at the highest levels. Anything that drew attention to the site risked exposing their operations.

That didn’t mean she’d sacrifice the lives of her subordinates to conceal the evidence of their activity. The men and women who joined her unit didn’t agree to die to keep the secret. An emergency call and code would get a medevac helicopter from the nearby Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, and they could deal with the fallout later.

“He’s stable, Legacy One,” Minuteman One reported. “Broken leg. We’ve lost contact with the target.”

Leah was happy they’d shifted away from call signs like “Martha Washington” in recent months. She was less happy that one of her hunters was down with a serious injury. Bringing a squad from the infantry platoon was supposed to reduce the mission’s risk. She needed more tactical intelligence on the target.

She sucked a breath through gritted teeth. “How did the target bring him down?”

“I don’t know how to explain it, Legacy One. He tripped and broke his leg.”

“Say again?” Leah asked. “Minuteman Two tripped?”

“It was like a cartoon, Legacy One. A utility closet door popped open, a metal bucket rolled out, mops fell, and a crate tipped over. We were all dodging and jumping, but the crate caught Minuteman Two, and he went down hard. Snap.”

“Copy that.” Leah shot Jamie worried glance. “Since Minuteman Two is stable, leave one hunter with him. Have someone break off to make sure the target isn’t doubling back.”

“The target entered a hall heading your way after Minuteman Two went down. That was when we lost visual, like you predicted. Target’s blood trail leads that way.”

Leah worked through the implications. “Ignore my last orders. Cover the exits near the hall and hold your current position. Eliminate the target if it heads that way.”

“Roger, Legacy One.”

Jamie nodded at the other side of the hangar. “We’re close to ending this. The target could bleed out.”

Leah shook her head. “We can’t be sure of that, and we can’t be sure we completed the overall mission until Benson and Emily confirm their objectives.” She frowned. “We still don’t know where the target came from. We weren’t supposed to run into an active threat.”

“Once it's down, we can sweep this entire museum. We can bring the whole unit here if we need to. For now, we’ll have to trust the plan.”

Leah eyed the M7, then nodded at Jamie and at the hall on the opposite side. “You’re right. That’s the only way the target can come out from that direction.”

Jamie readied his own rifle. “We have to be careful. Minuteman One’s description of the accident confirmed what Emily suggested about its abilities.”

Leah scoffed. “I still find it hard to believe the target creates bad luck chains.”

“Something like that,” Jamie replied. “That explains the reports from the drivers in the crash. Only one claimed to have seen anything unusual, but several reported suddenly having car trouble.”

“How do you defeat something that can turn chance and probability against you? It’s disturbing and strange.”

“Is it weirder than the other UPDOs we’ve dealt with, including an immortal mummy?” Jamie flipped his rifle’s fire selector to burst. “This is putting the ‘unusual’ in ‘Unusual Physics-Defying Object.’”

“Object?” Leah shook her head. “This case is an unusual physics-defying phenomenon.” She shuddered. “It’s a creature. A gremlin. That bothers me more than cursed muskets, mummies, and ghosts.”

“Because it’s not human and never was?”

Leah watched the hall. “Its very existence expands the threat space.”

“You’re right.” Jamie snickered. “We’re chasing a gremlin, and it’s just another weekday. I never thought I’d get accustomed to this craziness. It makes my terrorist and insurgent hunting days feel like a different life.”

He was right. They’d come to Dayton in search of a suspicious artifact—a wrench—and ended up hunting a small supernatural creature that had almost killed people in a traffic accident earlier that morning.

Her experience with the Boston mummy convinced her that a dangerous item had created or animated the gremlin. However, they had to trap and eliminate the creature before they could locate the suspicious wrench to test its link to the gremlin.

Every mission with Legacy Operations Command forced Leah’s mind further open. Her unit and the government tried to treat supernatural objects as an understandable threat, dangerous but not fundamentally different from chemical, nuclear, or biological threats. They pretended the unit’s hunters of weren’t dealing with what amounted to magic by giving them the acronyms “UPDO” or “UPDP” for unusual physics-defying object or phenomenon. That let Leah and everyone else in the unit wrap their mind around bad-luck-causing gremlins, killer mummies, and cursed muskets.

“I keep thinking about what could happen if that thing gets away from us,” Leah mused.

“’If?’” Jamie grunted. “We’re lucky nobody died in the ten-car pileup that thing caused when it threw rocks at those cars on the highway, and that’s not counting the people in intensive care. It’s a miracle the chemical truck didn’t leak. We could have a chlorine cloud over half of Dayton.”

“This could be as dangerous a threat as the mummy.” Leah shook her head. “Imagine if it gets aboard an airplane or finds its way into a factory, a power plant, or the base. We could end up with hundreds, if not thousands, of people dead or a bad luck chain that ends with a plane crashing into a stadium.”

Jamie’s expression darkened. “We have the target contained. We’ll finish it off.”

Leah knelt behind a crate, stabilized her rifle on top, and pointed at the hall, worried because she and Jamie hadn’t spotted the gremlin yet.

“If Benson can’t find the eggs the witness mentioned, we could have to deal with dozens of those things, and we won’t be able to play it off as an exotic lizard sighting. If one can lay eggs, the others might too.” Leah didn’t want to believe an army of bad-luck-causing gremlins could spread across Ohio. Stopping UPDO disasters often came down to luck. This time, luck had enlisted on the enemy’s side.

“You still think the wrench has something to do with this?” Jamie asked.

“The reports of feelings of clumsiness and weird noises just before the gremlin’s appearance are not coincidences,” Leah replied. “If we don’t take this gremlin and the eggs out, it won’t matter.”

“Finding and destroying the wrench might destroy the gremlin or trap it like the sarcophagus with the mummy,” Jamie suggested.

“We don’t know where the wrench is, only the gremlin.” Leah narrowed her eyes when she saw a shadow flicker in the hallway. “You see that?”

“Contact.” Jamie frowned. “The target’s coming. We’ve never failed to stop the UPDOs. The plan is working, despite a broken leg or two.”

Leah snickered. “I’m sure Minuteman Two appreciates your big-picture understanding.”

“I’m sure he does. In my experience, combat arms veterans have a sense of dark humor.”

More flitting shadows preceded a skittering sound from the target hall. Low chitters followed. Jamie and Leah aimed their rifles that way.

A cloying scent drifted through the air from outside the hangar and from another hall on their side of the hangar. Leah was surprised she could smell the barrier candles they’d set far across the spacious hangar.

Her plan was simple in concept but difficult in execution. Their lead gremlin interception team was ordered to break into two groups and herd the target into the main hangar, where barrier candles would cut off its escape. The infantry squad would prevent the gremlin’s retreat while she and Jamie finished the creature.

In theory, the candles outside the hangar would stop the gremlin from escaping through the open hangar door to the icy runways outside. The other candles would force the gremlin toward Leah and Jamie.

Meanwhile, Emily and Sergeant Benson were looking for the eggs found by local workers a couple of days after reports of accidents and mechanical failures started coming in. When Leah’s team arrived at the museum, the eggs were gone, with no broken shells to suggest hatching. She hoped they had been moved somewhere else on the site, and finding the gremlin strengthened that belief.

The skittering drew closer. Leah and Jamie jogged forward and ducked behind a wall of plastic crates. All they needed was one solid shot. One of her hunters had wounded the gremlin, so it wasn’t as powerful as the BCCS mummy. An ill-timed sign falling had distracted the squad, turning a quick victory into a tense pincer maneuver.

“Target sighted,” Leah announced. “Let’s this gremlin down.”

The gremlin darted out of the hall and behind a crate before Leah or Jamie could fire. The humanoid creature was half her height, with leathery red skin, floppy ears, and clawed hands. Red blood dripped from the creature’s grazed arm.

“We found the eggs, Legacy One,” Benson radioed. “Making the omelet now.”

Leah didn’t assume anything in regard to UPDOs and UPDPs. A saner universe would have balanced their bad luck with good luck. In this case, she attributed Benson’s success to his military training and consistency.

A loud boom rattled the hangar. She smiled. She didn’t bother to ask if C-4 was involved. “Copy that. Sweep around to reinforce us. Minuteman squad, maintain your current positions. This is almost over.”

The gremlin chittered and sprang from behind its crate. Jamie fired, but a jig to the side saved the gremlin. His second shot also missed. The gremlin leaped over another box before scampering behind a metal half-wall separating the main hangar from a crate- and box-filled storage area connected to the hall protected by barrier candles. The stacked storage containers added another yard to the height of the wall, making it impossible for Leah to see their target.

“Fast and slippery little bastard,” Jamie muttered.

“Our hunters would have finished it off otherwise,” Leah replied.

The gremlin loped toward the door that led outside. Leah and Jamie didn’t have a good angle from their positions. The gremlin skidded to a halt and screeched a few yards in front of the open hangar doors. Leah spun around her crate to line up a new shot.

The gremlin ran back behind the wall just before she fired. It peeked out and waved its middle claw in a rude gesture. Anything smart enough to move its eggs and flip her off was smart enough to take seriously.

“The candles are working,” Leah stated. “We’ll pincer him. Go!”

She ran toward the far side of the wall. Jamie sprinted away from her.

Grinding and wrenching noises came from above. Jamie changed direction, charged Leah, and tackled her to the floor just before an industrial ceiling fan crashed into where she’d stood. A metal blade snapped off and dropped right next to her head with a loud clang.

“Bad luck!” Leah spat through clenched teeth. She jumped back to her feet and charged the gremlin’s hiding place. “Is it really bad luck when it’s happening on command? Keep up the pincer!”

Jamie scrambled to his feet and ran toward the opposite side of the wall, which was closer to the hall with the candles. A box sitting on top of a crate split open. Ball bearings poured out and littered Jamie’s path in a rolling metal menace. He slipped and slammed to his knees with a grimace.

The wheel lock on a tool cart on top of a ramp leading to a raised platform in the back of the hangar popped off, and the cart slid down toward Leah. She jumped out of the way and hit the floor in a roll. The cart tipped over and spilled tools, screws, and bolts everywhere. Annoyed chittering echoed around the hangar.

Jamie grunted and stood. “I’ll never complain about kneepads again. Was there always a box of ball bearings there, or is that part of the bad luck?”

“You mean did it spontaneously manifest?” Leah asked.

“Yes.”

“I don’t won’t think that way.” Leah pushed up, ignoring the hidden gremlin’s chittered mockery. “You know what this mission is teaching me?”

“That real-life gremlins are much more annoying than cartoon gremlins?”

Leah shook her head. “How good our infantry platoon hunters are. They had to chase that thing while we set the candles up, and they only ended up with one broken leg. It’s a miracle nobody broke their neck.”

Jamie crept toward the far end of the wall, rifle at the ready and his eyes darting back and forth. “We’ve got it cornered. There’s nowhere for it to run. We’ve got the bay door and the only other hall covered by candles. It can’t make it to the second hall without passing us. If it retreats, the squad can take it out.”

The gremlin chittered again and waved a paw above the wall. Leah squeezed off a shot, but the gremlin yanked its paw down.

“Let’s finish the little saboteur off,” Leah growled. “Then nobody else will get hurt.”

CHAPTER THREE

Jamie’s knee throbbed. His kneepad took the brunt of his fall, but he was no longer at one hundred percent. Chasing the gremlin past this hangar would be hard.

“Why don’t you come out and make this easy?” Leah called. “You’re not leaving this place. You’re not even real. You’re a product of people’s beliefs and fears about mechanical failure. I’m not letting you out of here to kill, hurt, or maim more innocent people.”

The gremlin let out a loud screech. How much did the creature understand? Was it intelligent or nothing more than embodied mischief and bad luck?

At this point, Jamie didn’t care. The gremlin was a threat, like the other UPDOs they had recovered. Being an annoying red creature didn’t make it better than a murderous walking corpse or a pretentious terrorist with delusions of royalty.

Leah and Jamie crept toward the opposite ends of the storage area half-wall, their speed controlled despite the mocking chitters urging them to go faster. No tools, boxes, carts, or fans ambushed them this time.

Jamie wondered how much the gremlin controlled the bizarre low-probability events protecting it from the humans hunting it or if the annoying events were a reflex that took advantage of the immediate situation. One injured hunter was too many. Adding two more to the casualty list would not protect the citizens of Dayton.

He stopped near the corner and waited for Leah to get into position. She counted down with three fingers before they pivoted around the wall, ready to end the gremlin threat to Ohio.

Jamie took a few extra steps to the side and angled his shot to ensure any misses would hit crates or boxes rather than Leah. He pulled the trigger.

The gun didn’t fire. He pulled the trigger again. Nothing happened.

He gritted his teeth. “It’s jammed.”

“Mine, too,” Leah frowned. “More bad luck.”

The gremlin chittered and waved its paws. Its beady eyes darted around. This was Jamie’s first time being dissed by a UPDP. The mummy had restricted its insults to trying to kill him, and most of their missions involved inanimate UPDOs rather than UPDPs.

“I don’t get it.” Jamie slapped his rifle and tried to fire again, half-wondering if the gremlin could jam an AK. “The squad didn’t report any jams. That means whatever it’s doing isn’t happening all the time.”

He crept closer to the gremlin, then ejected the chambered round and tried to fire again. No success.

“There’s something we’re missing,” Leah concluded. “Beyond its ability to cause accidents and bad luck. There’s a trigger. Shouldn’t everything have an underlying logic?”

Jamie laughed. “Including UPDOs? Something we literally define by how it defies physics? Good luck with that, Leah.”

She scoffed. “I didn’t say they obey physics. I said they have a logic to them.” She slung the rifle over her shoulder and drew her combat knife. “This has no mechanical parts to break.”

“There’s a handle and a blade. There’s always something to break.”

“I’m willing to take a chance. Whatever else happens today, we can’t let that thing get away.”

The gremlin screeched and leaped onto a crate. Jamie slung his rifle and drew his knife.

“You don’t like that, huh?” Jamie asked. “That means there are limits to your power, you little monster. You put a dozen people in the hospital, including a five-year-old. You’re going down.”

“We have to force it back toward the hallway.” Leah tightened her grip on the knife. “It won’t make it through the barrier candles. We’ve already seen that.”

The gremlin jumped off the box and out of sight behind the wall. Leah and Jamie ran back into the hangar and spotted the gremlin scrambling toward the front landing gear of a B-17 bomber. It jumped onto the large metal landing block in front of the wheel and bounced to the strut.

Jamie yanked out his pistol and squeezed off a shot. His gun fired this time, but the bullet bounced off the gear assembly with a spark. He grimaced. Only a few of those bombers were left in the world, surviving symbols of the bravery of the pilots and bomber crews of World War II. Damaging one was close to sacrilege.

“You get away from that plane, you little bastard,” Jamie barked.

The gremlin screeched and clung to the back of the strut with its legs and claws, its dark eyes unblinking.

Leah advanced, sheathed her knife, and drew her pistol. “It’s not bleeding anymore, but it doesn’t look like the wound healed.” She frowned. “Now my pistol’s jammed.” She waved the gun. “What’s the difference? There has to be a difference.”

Jamie lined up another shot, trying to figure out why the gremlin wasn’t retreating. After setting up the perfect shot, he pulled the trigger. He sighed when the gun failed to discharge. The gremlin chittered and clambered up the landing gear into the bomber.

Jamie heard heavy footsteps behind him. He ejected the round, then the magazine. He slapped in a new one while watching the bomber and waiting for the gremlin to pop out.

Sergeant Benson rushed into the hangar, rifle in hand. “The doc tripped, so I told her to stay there while I caught up with you. I didn’t want to distract you while you were gremlin hunting.”

Leah grimaced. “The gremlin made her trip that far away?”

“I don’t think it was the gremlin, Major.” Benson chuckled. “She tripped because she wasn’t looking where she was going. Just a twisted ankle.”

“We have no proof this thing can affect people at a distance,” Jamie said.

“Thank God for small favors,” Leah replied. “We also have got no proof that it won’t get stronger the longer it’s around.”

Benson hefted his rifle with a grin. “There are three of us now. That little red menace cannot get away.” He looked around. “I don’t see him.”

Jamie nodded at the plane. “He’s in the B-17.”

“My grandfather was a bombardier in one of those bad boys during the War.” Benson whistled. “A real beauty.”

Leah glared at the bomber. “Right now, that beauty is infested.”

“What’s the plan, Major?” Benson asked. “We surround and bum-rush the bomber?”

“We have to play this right,” Leah countered. “It jammed our weapons, but we haven’t established the limits of that power. We’ll flush it out first and go from there.” She pointed upward. “Avoid standing underneath ceiling fans or getting close to anything large.”

Benson craned his neck upward. “So, the doc and I were right.”

“Yes, unfortunately.”

“You sound like my first wife.” Benson chuckled. “I’ve spent too many years playing poker to get beaten by a bad luck.”

Jamie circled toward the bomber, every combat instinct from his time overseas screaming at him to stay close to cover while his logical mind tried to figure out how the gremlin could weaponize bad luck. He knelt behind a metal crate and pointed his gun at the bomber. “We could bring in the other squad and close on the bomber with knives. You might be onto something, Major.”

Leah shook her head. “I have a feeling that if we tried, the landing gears would break, or a wing would fall off. We need to get the gremlin to come out to deal with it.”

She retreated behind the detached cockpit of a Vietnam-era A-6 Intruder strike craft. Benson crouched behind the storage area wall and poked his rifle around.

“Do we just wait here, Major?” Benson asked. “What if it’s charging up its bad luck?”

“We’ve got it trapped in there,” Leah replied. “As long as we know where it is, I’m not in a hurry. The one pattern I noticed is that bad luck manifests when we’re engaging the gremlin. Once it got away from the other squad, they stopped having trouble.”

Jamie frowned. “That makes sense.”

“If we light that plane up with enough rounds, I bet we hit the bitch,” Benson replied. “I bet it can only stop so many people and shots. Or grenades. Shit, if we’ve got him locked down, we can blow the plane with C-4.”

“I’d rather not damage the museum displays more than necessary,” Leah protested. “As long as he’s contained here, we can control the situation and come up with a situation. Right now, it’s not invoking its ability.”

“True.” Benson shrugged. “My grandfather would rise from the grave to kick my ass if I blew up a B-17.”

Jamie stared at the bomber, then holstered his pistol and readied his rifle.

“Point-to-point movement,” Leah said. “We’ll close from different angles as a squad. I’ll move, then the lieutenant, then you, Sergeant. If it has a recharge between the use of its ability, we can force it to use it. That’ll reduce the chances of the gremlin’s bad luck getting us. If you have a shot, take it, but don’t fire blindly.”

“Even if we have to damage the plane?” Benson asked.

“Try to minimize damage, but our priority is eliminating the target.”

A dark shadow dropped into the ball turret underneath the B-17’s belly. Jamie whipped up his rifle and pulled the trigger. He gritted his teeth when the weapon didn’t fire. “He’s in the turret!”

Benson fired, the burst resounding through the cavernous hangar. The bullet tore through the front window, missing the gremlin by inches. When he pulled the trigger again, nothing happened.

The turret spun in the sergeant’s direction with a grinding noise. The propellers on the B-17 sputtered to life, kicking up dust from the hangar floor.

“That thing isn’t flight-worthy,” Jamie shouted. “I doubt if they’ve had fuel in that plane for decades.”

“Everyone stay under cover,” Leah ordered. “You might get your wish, Sergeant. I don’t care if that plane can only fly a half-mile. We’re not letting it out of here.”

The ball turret twisted back and forth. The gremlin wiggled inside, hard to make out through the churning dust.

“It can’t shoot without ammo, can it?” Benson asked, his tone and expression uncertain.

“It started the plane without fuel. We should cross ‘that’s impossible’ off our list of reactions to UPDOs,” Jamie growled.

“That’s a .50-caliber machine gun,” Benson pointed out, “and it doesn’t look like they’ve blocked the barrels.”

Leah grimaced at a dark memory. “The cursed musket in the Long-Term Storage Warehouse proves UPDO-influenced weapons don’t always need ammunition.”

The turret roared to life and spat rounds at Benson.

CHAPTER FOUR

Benson threw himself behind a concrete support column. The rounds chewed the column’s edge into a gray choking cloud, and hot concrete shards shot away. One scraped his cheek.

The gremlin twisted the turret to the side and raked the column and nearby area again. The attack blasted crates and parts. The metal crates couldn’t stand up to a machine gun designed to take down German and Japanese fighters.

Leah dropped, her heart pounding. She lost sight of Benson behind the column. She always worried about losing hunters during missions, but she could not have expected to have to take on a museum-display bomber when chasing a gremlin who could create bad luck. Every new mission brought excitement and absurdity in equal measure.

“Legacy Three,” she radioed, not trusting her voice to reach Sergeant Benson over the echoing roar of the propellers. “You still with us?”

“I’m breathing, Major,” Benson told her. “A little sore from my face getting cut and parts slamming into me, but he didn’t hit me directly. Now I can tell everybody back on base that I survived a B-17 turret.”

“Minuteman One, this is Legacy One,” Leah sent. “Send somebody to pick up the MAAWS. We need to contain this situation..”

“Roger that, Legacy One. At least five minutes.”

“Copy. Move it. We’ll hold the target at this location.”

“Roger.”

As much as she respected the museum’s devotion to history, she wouldn’t trade her people’s lives for an old aircraft. The MAAWS, or M3A1 multi-role anti-armor anti-personnel weapon system, was a portable rocket launcher with enough power to damage modern tanks. All she needed to take out was one turret that was half plexiglass.

“It might not do any good,” Jamie shouted. “If it can jam our guns, it can jam a MAAWS, and we can’t just shoot a weapon like that. Whoever sets up for the attack will be a sitting duck.”

“Switch to Channel Two,” Leah shouted, not wanting to scream over the propellers or debate it over the radio for the entire team to hear.

“I’m here,” Jamie radioed.

“If the gremlin can start that plane, it might be able to fly it,” Leah replied. “I’m praying that he can’t conjure bombs out of nothing. This has gone beyond him tripping people and breaking legs. We need to contain the threat here and now.”

“We could let him leave,” Jamie replied. “We call the Air Force, they send up a couple of fighters, and they smoke that bastard long before he can see them. By the time a missile’s close enough for the gremlin to do anything, it’ll be too late.”

Leah gasped. “That’s it. Go back to Channel One. We need Benson in on this.”

“You’re on board with air-to-air missiles?” Jamie replied on Channel One.

“No. This is why the gremlin’s tech disruption isn’t consistent. It’s not range.” Leah nodded. “We’ve been able to fire from far away and closer. It must need eye contact. That’s why the others took more shots. It was running.”

The turret opened fire again. She stayed down. The gremlin swept the hangar with the machine gun. Rounds tore through the walls and other aircraft. Bullets ripped the front propeller assembly off a World War I Sopwith Camel biplane. The assembly crashed into the hard cement floor of the hangar, adding more debris. The destruction simplified Leah’s calculations of lives versus history.

The .50-cal fell silent. The turret spun back and forth, the gremlin’s dark form bouncing inside.

Leah was grateful for the wooden blocks beneath the wheels. Without that obstacle, the plane would have taxied outside. The barrier candles could stop the gremlin from passing them, but they wouldn’t stop moving vehicles. She was prepared to bet the gremlin could survive riding past the candles in a vehicle.

The turret spun toward the open hangar doors and fired at the corners. The rounds tore through the metal and gouged the cement and asphalt. The barrage continued for ten seconds before shifting to the other side for another lengthy attack.

“What it’s doing?” Jamie asked.

“I think it’s trying to take down the barrier candles,” Leah mused.

Did the creature know, or was it operating on instinct? For that matter, what was it? The Intelligence Platoon had heard online rumors about an uptick in accidents in and around an Ohio aviation museum after a World War II-era wrench was sent to it, culminating with a huge multi-car crash. Because of the date etched on the handle, August 23, 1944, people claimed it was a cursed wrench linked to the Freckleton air disaster, a mass casualty event involving the non-combat crash of an American bomber into an English village in World War II.

The internet was full of tall tales, but that information, combined with reports of people feeling nauseated and uneasy around the wrench and the accident, had led to Legacy Operations Command’s deployment. A few hours earlier, after clearing the museum with claims about the wrench being a potential radioactive artifact, they had run into the gremlin and a witness who claimed there was an egg cache in a storage room. That had complicated the mission and redefined the scope of the threat.

Leah’s mind adjusted to the UPDOs and UPDPs she had dealt with, but then a new type appeared. She had a hard time accepting that there would never be a standard operation procedure for dealing with these threats. Every mission demanded new tactics, and failure meant death, not only for her team but innocent civilians. At least this time, the British Colonial Citizens Society wasn’t involved.

“We need to distract it. Then somebody can take the shot,” Leah stated. “We don’t need the MAAWS to finish off something that small. We need one good bullet.”

“Are you sure about that, Major?” Benson asked.

“I’m not sure about anything anymore, but that is my best theory. There’s a good chance it took out the barrier candles or knocked them over with that last barrage. It won’t be long before it figures out those blocks are stopping the plane and gets rid of them.”

“I’ll make a run to distract it,” Jamie offered. “Then you and Benson can finish it off.”

Leah took a deep breath, ashamed of what she was about to order. “You both need to distract it from different directions. There’s too great a chance of it causing bad luck if there is only one of you. I’ll take the shot.”

“It sounds like a solid plan, Major,” Jamie agreed. “We’ll show this gremlin why it should never have gotten our attention.”

“I’m ready,” Benson told them. “I’ll send that gremlin back to the Kremlin.”

“I don’t think the gremlin is Russian, based on the wrench.”

“It’s red, isn’t it? Besides, in a cartoon I watched with my grandpa when I was a kid, the gremlins were all Russian.”

Leah scoffed. “I don’t care about its nationality as long as we take it out.” She waited for a few seconds. “Lieutenant, are you in position?”

“Yes,” Jamie shouted.

Leah took another deep breath. One mistake, one slipup, and Jamie or Benson would die. Calling in a fighter intercept as Jamie had suggested made surface-level sense. The problem was, the gremlin might spot the missile at the last second and cause a failure that would end with the explosive dropping into the middle of a city. There was also no guarantee the aerial intercept wouldn’t spread flaming debris all over the city, killing people.

The vibration from the B-17’s propellers shook one front wheel block out of the way. The gremlin might abandon the plane once outside the hangar. There were too many variables, too many lives at risk, and not enough time.

“Both of you, get ready to move.” Leah switched her rifle to burst mode. “Go, go, go!”

Benson and Jamie left their respective cat a full sprint. Neither man worried about zigzag or serpentine paths, opting to run at diverging angles.

The gremlin hesitated, then a fluorescent light fixture tore off the ceiling and fell toward Sergeant Benson. He grunted and pushed harder. The fixture hit the floor behind him. He slipped and fell, the back of his helmet striking the hard cement with an echoing thud.

Leah’s heart thundered. The turret spun toward Jamie. She thrust her rifle around the edge of her cover and lined up the shot. She aimed lower to compensate for the recoil and squeezed the trigger.

Her first burst struck the plexiglass window. Unsure if she’d finished off the gremlin, she fired two more times, leaving the window covered with spiderweb cracks with a large, jagged hole in the center.

The turret stopped moving. Leah emptied her magazine and dropped back to reload. Jamie dived behind the detached fuselage of a Korean War-era F-86 Sabre jet fighter.

“Benson,” Leah shouted. “You conscious?”

“My head hurts like hell, Major,” Benson yelled back.

Leah held her breath, waiting for the turret to return fire or continue hunting Jamie and Benson. Holding her breath, she risked poking her gun barrel out again. Encouraged by the lack of phantom machine-gun fire, she shouted, “Frag out!”

She primed a grenade, ran around the corner, and hurled it into the turret, proving her time on the grenade range wasn’t a waste. The grenade flew through the shattered window and exploded, flinging shrapnel and shards of glass everywhere. Dark smoke poured from the turret.

“I didn’t hear it screech,” Benson called, staying on the floor after rolling onto his stomach. “Aren’t monsters supposed to screech when they die?”

“I have no idea if that’s true.” Jamie chuckled. “It can’t screech with an instant kill.”

Leah sighed in relief. “Screeching or not, if it’s not stopping the grenade or shooting us, I think it’s dead.” She crept toward the smoking turret, her rifle pointed straight ahead. “It doesn’t hurt to be sure.”

“I should do that.” Jamie stood up from behind the F-86’s fuselage.

“You and Sergeant Benson just risked getting free surgery from a machine gun,” Leah replied. “This isn’t about bravery. It’s about distributing risk among all resistant personnel to maximize long-term mission capability.”

“Major, I⁠—”

“I’ve made my decision.”

She jogged to the side to avoid approaching the turret head-on. On arrival, she stuck her head around the corner and waved smoke out of the way. The acrid scent of burning plastic filled the air, yet nothing smelled like a toasted and ventilated gremlin. That led her to question what that would smell like.

“Is the bitch dead?” Benson stood and grimaced.

“I’m not sure,” Leah replied.

“Be careful, Major.”

The smoke cleared, and Leah chuckled at the bullet-scarred, blood-splattered turret interior. There was one key difference from before. “It’s dead, but it was never alive.” Leah grinned.

“What do you mean?” Jamie asked.

She slung her rifle over her shoulder and reached into the turret to pull out a blackened, rusty wrench with August 23, 1944 etched on the handle. Her stomach churned when she touched the wrench. She turned and held it up. “I found our missing UPDO wrench. It’s got mild side effects if you’re resistant. I don’t envy the warehouse staff having to figure this one out. We need to keep a close eye on this to make sure it doesn’t summon more gremlins on the way to the warehouse.”

“We could use a break after this.” Benson rolled his shoulders, then pulled off his helmet and rubbed the back of his head. “That’s a nasty bump. I’m in good shape, but dodging machine guns wasn’t in the job description.”

Leah shook her head. “With this unit, everything’s in the job description.”

“We rarely get back-to-back missions,” Jamie offered. “Taking leave isn’t out of the question for all of us. Including you, Major.”

“I’m fine. I’m not the one with the broken leg.” Leah reached for her radio. “All personnel, the target is down, and the wrench is secure. We will take care of our wounded, then sweep this entire place again for more eggs. I don’t want to have to come back.”

She smiled at Jamie. “We’re lucky the BCCS didn’t catch onto this UPDO.” She waved the wrench. “Imagine what they could do with a gremlin-making wrench. They could bring an entire city to a halt.”

The British Colonial Citizens Society had been central to two of Legacy Operation Command’s most serious incidents. Having a group of terrorists seeking to exploit UPDOs meant Leah and her unit needed to push hard and fast to recover the UPDOs when they picked up a new trail. Waiting even a day risked the enemy gaining a new weapon.

Jamie scoffed. “I’m sure that bastard Drake is hiding in a closet somewhere, afraid to show his face after getting his ass beat in Boston and losing his guy in New Winter Creek. He knows he can’t defeat us.”

“I’m not so sure. Drake’s obsessed. He won’t give up so easily.”

Benson laughed. “He’s all bark and no bite. He’s tough when he has a squad of mercenaries and a dozen UPDOs.”

“We have the upper hand over the BCCS,” Jamie added. “That’s why they’re not making a move. I wouldn’t be surprised if we didn’t hear from them for a long time.”

Leah turned the wrench over. “I hope you’re right, Lieutenant, but I doubt our luck will last that long.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Jamie enjoyed the ride in their custom USLC SUVs as they zoomed down the highway that night. The vehicles were tough, reliable, and easy to drive. He would have loved to have had one during his Army days for patrols.

However, more armor did not mean more safety. He’d learned that the hard way, but he was still around to talk about it. Not all his comrades were.

Those memories made him grateful whenever he returned from a mission without losing anyone. The danger scale varied during their USLC missions, but he could never underestimate them. He hadn’t forgotten how close the mummy had come to escaping into Boston. That monster could kill by proximity.

He smiled at Leah in the passenger’s seat to push away the dark thoughts. They’d completed the mission with no fatalities. They’d won in Dayton like they’d won in Boston.

It was a good time to talk to Leah without mission concerns or anyone else distracting them. Emily and Sergeant Benson were driving in their own SUV.

“We were technically at an airport, and we’d cleared out the staff.” Jamie chuckled. “We could have taken a helicopter there rather than driving.”

Leah shook her head and frowned. “The mission took too long, not counting the cleanup. It is easier to head out from Wright-Patterson, and it leaves less for everybody to cover up.” She glanced his way. “We received confirmation from the base, correct?”

Jamie nodded. “Yes. We just roll in and flash our IDs. We’ll be gone before anyone asks questions we can’t or don’t want to answer. We’ll be a cool mystery for their airmen and soldiers to discuss at the DFAC.”

She frowned. “I don’t like having to deceive everyone. Too many years of the Army’s core values. It feels like we had to leave honor and personal integrity behind when we started this unit.”

The admission surprised Jamie. Leah hadn’t mentioned feeling that way before.

Jamie shook his head. “We do what we do to protect people, and UDPOs are unique threats that require unique approaches. Sacrifice goes along with honor and personal integrity.” He shrugged. “It’s not like keeping secrets is limited to our unit. The average soldier or airman at Wright-Pat has experience with classified documents and understands compartmentalization. Protecting the country requires keeping secrets. That’s always been the case, from the very beginning. George Washington had a spy ring.”

Leah shook her head. “I know, but this is more than that. This isn’t just about compartmentalization.”

“Sure it is. An extreme version of the concept.”

Jamie glanced at the rearview mirror. Benson was close behind them. Without more knowledge of how the wrench worked, they had to be careful. They stopped at thirty-minute intervals to verify its presence in a locked security crate in Benson’s SUV and the lack of a new gremlin. Hunters from the Long-Term Storage Warehouse, the LTSW, would relocate the wrench overland from Wright-Patterson AFB.

“We always pretend to be somebody we’re not,” Leah added. “Even with our brothers and sisters in the military. I understand why, but… This isn’t appropriate. I shouldn’t be discussing this with you. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

Jamie’s hands tightened on the wheel. She had been so close to opening up. Leah would destroy herself, trying to accept the entire burden of the mission.

He sighed. “You can talk to me, Leah. You’re not talking to Tolleson, and you need someone to talk to. That’s another thing that’s different about this mission.”

Leah scoffed. “It’s not like you’re talking to Tolleson, either. What’s the Latin for that? Cura te ipsum?”

Major Reginald Tolleson was their unit’s new psychiatrist, selected because of his extensive counseling experience with combat veterans. Colonel Washington had insisted on bringing in a psychiatrist over a psychologist. He argued that given the sensitive nature of their work and the difficulty finding resistant personnel, they needed the full scope of available interventions to manage personnel.

He insisted they do everything they could to keep the resistant hunters from leaving the unit, even if in the regular military, they would be discharged. So far, that only covered Leah, Jamie, Sergeant Benson, and Emily, highlighting the precarious nature of their unit staffing. One bad mission could doom Legacy Operations Command.

Much like in the regular military, Major Tolleson was a medical specialist granted a commissioned rank to integrate him into the unit's structure. He lacked command authority outside his medical mission, although his rank equaled Leah’s.

Jamie understood Leah’s thought process on Tolleson. She had nothing against the man, but she was the unit’s commander. In her mind, showing weakness to anyone, even the psychiatrist, might undermine the battalion.

A handful of unit hunters saw Doctor Tolleson for counseling. Emily had spoken to him weekly since his arrival, still haunted by shooting a BCCS agent during the New Winter Creek mission.

Jamie focused on the road, his frown becoming a smile. “We’re in a unique situation in an unusual unit. Tolleson is a headshrinker, but he knows nothing about what it’s like for us to run a mission in the field. Seeing barrier candles and taking a trip to the warehouse doesn’t make him feel it in his guts and blood like the rest of us, and he hasn’t been under fire or had to see someone killed by enemy fire. However, He has a good reputation for counseling people who have dealt with that.”

“I won’t argue with that.” Leah looked out the window, her expression as distracted as her voice. “That doesn’t mean I want to talk to him.”

“Then talk to me,” Jamie suggested firmly. “You know I won’t repeat anything. We’re in this together. We’re both resistant.” He scoffed. “I don’t know if the government would let us quit now.”

Leah sighed. “It’s frustrating trying to plan for new scenarios that are all but guaranteed to be different. There are no standard weapons tactics or systems. I doubt we’ll ever have a firm handle on how to approach one of these missions. That means every mission is as risky as the last, if not riskier.”

“There’s that old saying about everyone training for the last war. In this case, we can’t even train based on the last battle.” Jamie glanced her way and smiled. “I do appreciate that you accept that as the unit’s CO, you can’t always throw yourself into danger.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Until we have additional resistant personnel, I will continue in the field. I thought that was clear.”

Jamie took the time to choose his words. “When you talked about the distraction plan, I worried that you would volunteer because you were unwilling to order us to do something risky.”

“I didn’t like doing that, but I had to,” Leah agreed. “We had no good options.”

“I’m not complaining. It’s the opposite. You now understand and accept your position, and that’s a good thing.”

“Better understand my position, huh?” Leah frowned. “If I could have devised a better plan that didn’t risk the gremlin getting away, I wouldn’t have risked green-lighting that crazy one. We’re lucky it didn’t think to pull the landing blocks out first, or its bad luck ability didn’t make them all pop out the second it started the engines. We could be cleaning up after a mass casualty event.”

When they’d inspected the front of the hangar, they’d found that the gremlin’s barrages had knocked over and snuffed out one of the barrier candles. They’d also confirmed there was no fuel or bullets in the plane, pointing to spontaneous generation. She was happy the candle had survived, but the discovery highlighted how close the gremlin had come to escaping.

“Things won’t change,” Leah continued. “Our unit has run missions for half a year, and we’ve yet to find new resistant personnel, even with the higher-ups allowing tests with barrier candle exposure. Our merry band of four will continue being the tip of the spear, possibly for years.”

“The support squad was vital to this mission,” Jamie noted. “And the Research and Intelligence Platoons are key to every mission. It’s not only us.”

She curled her hand into a fist. “I’m not trying to downplay their accomplishments, but in most cases, resistance is the key to victory or defeat.” She chuckled. “And our resistance doesn’t help us all the time. The bad luck still affected us.”

“Maybe. Maybe the gremlin was affecting the environment rather than us.”

“That would explain it.”

“Look on the bright side. The barrier candles worked, and we herded that gremlin. That’s a far better use of a UPDO than having Emily waste the precious minutes we have left with those barrier candles in her experiments. If we use them, the higher-ups might approve us using other UPDOs in the field. That’ll help us counter our lack of resistant personnel.”

Leah nodded. “I go back and forth on that. Using UPDOs in the field increases the chance that we lose them to the BCCS or somebody else. I’m not so naïve as to believe Drake and his friends are the only threat out there. They’re just the loudest and most immediate.”

Jamie had thought long and hard about that problem. The gremlin wrench UDPO might have been birthed by an American accident, but that accident had occurred overseas. China and India might have UPDOs and teams looking for them as well, and the average European country was centuries older than the United States and had millions of people invested in myths, folklore, and legends.

Their smug sense of superiority and desire to maintain a centuries-long resistance limited the scope of the BCCS’ operations. Other terrorists might have no such restraint or concerns.

“We’re doing well,” Jamie told Leah. “We can play the what-if game all day and night and assume the worst, but we’ve saved lives.” He thought about Boston. “We’ve saved thousands of lives, and the people we took out were vicious killers and mercenaries. We’re defending America with minimal casualties.”

Leah offered him a wan smile. “That’s one way to look at it.”

“We’re averaging about one hard collection a month,” Jamie noted. “The broken leg is the worst injury we’ve dealt with in a while. We’re saving lives without losing our people.”

Amazement filled Leah’s voice. “You came within inches of being ripped apart by phantom bullets from a World War II machine gun fired by a UPDP.”

“You have come just as close. You were possessed by a cursed musket.”

“That’s different. I’m in command, so I’m responsible for you and everyone else in the unit.”

“We cannot do this job with zero risk. That’s no different from the Army.”

Leah turned away. “I suppose. We haven’t had a hard pickup since the New Winter Creek mission.” She grimaced. “Unless we count getting egged in the face during the Christmas coal incident. That was disgusting, but not dangerous.”

Jamie laughed. Leah joined him.

“Cursed musket, Christmas coal, a World War I Army uniform that makes people nearby hear artillery bombardments, and now a wrench that creates a bad-luck gremlin saboteur,” Jamie mused. “The last few months have been busy. We find UPDOs more often than the task force did. That’s another sign we’re doing a good job.”

“Because the direction is different. We’re being proactive. The BCCS might not have wanted the Christmas coal, but they wanted the musket and tried to release the mummy. They could have made good use of the wrench.” She smiled. “You’re right, Jamie. We’re kicking more ass than I was thinking.”

“It’s easy to lose sight of the big picture.”

Jamie took a deep breath. Timing was everything in a battle. “How about a celebratory dinner when we get back to base? People who kick ass and save people deserve to throw back a few beers now and again.”

Leah smiled. “We’ve had tons of celebratory dinners. Nobody’s had any leave since the unit started, but it’s not like we’re on-mission twenty-four/seven.”

Jamie shrugged and slowed as they approached a large semi, which made him think about the ten-car accident the gremlin had caused. “We keep winning.”

“Half those dinners end up being just you and me.” Leah sounded uncertain.

“Is that so bad?” Jamie passed the truck.

“I just don’t—” Leah shook her head. “How about we make sure Benson and Emily join us?”

Jamie kept up his smile, though he could hear the doubt in Leah’s voice. He’d tried pulling back on pursuing her but couldn’t deny his feelings. She couldn’t either.

Legacy Operations Command’s regs allowed relationships. She was letting habits from her old life stand in the way of happiness.

“Even better, let’s send a pizza to my hunter with the broken leg,” Leah suggested. “It doesn’t matter what medals we give our people since they can’t show them to anybody. Appreciation from the top goes a long way.”

Jamie chuckled. “That sounds like a good idea.”

CHAPTER SIX

A few days later, at the gun range, Jamie nodded approvingly as he reviewed the human-shaped target in Emily’s lane. A dozen holes dotted the target’s center, a nice tight cluster. She finished inspecting her pistol and ejected the magazine before placing it on the shooting bench.

Jamie was impressed by how far she’d come. She’d gone from trembling when she held a weapon to solid marksmanship and was now superior to many people in the unit. Experience and skill didn’t guarantee she wouldn’t have trouble in the future, but half of martial skill was familiarity. That was the logic behind her training regime.

Emily tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and removed her ear protectors and shooting goggles. She adjusted her glasses. “I appreciate you helping me, Lieutenant, but at this point, aren’t you wasting your time?”

Jamie took his ear protectors off. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions, so he asked, “Why do you say that?”

“Because you don’t always come when I’m practicing. You haven’t for a while.” She looked down. “Are you worried about my shooting now? You told me that as long as I kept up my range time, you didn’t need to come. You didn’t say anything about reporting my results beyond yearly qualification.”

Jamie nodded. “There’s only so much I can teach about technique. In the end, shooting is like most skills. It comes down to putting in the time, combined with the proper technique. I taught you the proper technique, so the only thing left is the time.”

“I’ve been practicing a lot.” Emily rubbed her wrist. “I feel like I’m doing well.”

“You misunderstand. You are doing well.” Jamie gestured at the target. “Look at those clusters. You don’t need me. Keep this up, and you’ll be a better shot than I am. I’ll need to put in more time to keep up.”

“That’s not true.” Emily blushed. “I twisted my ankle on the last mission. That’s pathetic. I’m part of an elite team, and I twisted my ankle like a clumsy idiot.”

Jamie shrugged. “You’d be surprised how many injuries are caused by accidents in normal units that don’t have to worry about UPDOs.” He eyed the target. “Also, a hunter with a Special Forces background broke his leg.”

“Because of the gremlin,” Emily countered. “Not from tripping.”

Jamie shrugged. He’d hoped she wouldn’t contest the point with inconvenient facts.

Emily had changed. When she first joined, she hadn’t cared about keeping up with the ex-military and ex-federal LEOs that comprised the bulk of the unit. Close calls, including against the BCCS agent in New Winter Creek, had changed her.

“My point is it’s a miracle we didn’t all break legs or get concussions from the bad luck and mechanical failures the gremlin caused. Making it through that mission with only minor injuries was a testament to your skill and dedication, not your weakness.”

“The gremlin wasn’t near me as much as everybody else.”

“Running at full speed while dealing with a supernatural situation is stressful and dangerous. You’re being too hard on yourself.”

“If you say so.” She sighed.

Jamie smiled. “It’s easy to convince yourself you’ve done a crap job since there’s always something to improve. That doesn’t mean you should ignore when you’re doing a good job. I don’t know how it was in academia, but that’s how I did things in the Army, and I’m using the same logic in Legacy Operations Command.”

Emily lifted her head. “If that's true, what you are doing here? You keep telling me I’m doing great, but people don’t show up out of nowhere when someone is doing great, in my experience.”

Jamie maintained his smile. This would require more finesse than he generally used when he dealt with a unit member. “I wanted to check in with you. I know you’ve been talking to Tolleson, and this gremlin incident was your first time discharging firearms since the incident with the BCCS and the musket. We all know how hard that was on you.”

He gestured between them. “I feel we’ve developed a rapport. You have friends in the Research and Intelligence Platoons, but they’re not field personnel. They don’t go through the same things you do.”

“That makes sense.” Emily gave a shallow nod. “You want to see if I’m cracking under the pressure.”

“Checking in on someone isn’t the same as thinking they’re going to crack.”

She sighed. “It’s ironic. I’ve read about soldiers from past wars having trouble. I thought I understood what it meant to take somebody’s life from reading those accounts, but until it’s you pulling the trigger, it’s not the same.”

“Trust me, I understand. I didn’t get through all those years in combat zones overseas without having to fight. It’s not like I came out of my mother able to take on people in firefights. It’s experience that makes it easier for me to handle.”

“Then you must think I’m pathetic. I got bent out of shape by one serious fight.”

“I don’t think you’re pathetic.”

“Really? I do.”

“We brought you into this unit for research, and then you had to shoot someone. As Benson keeps telling you, that guy had it coming.” He shook his head. “Leah and I are here for you. Nobody’s looking down on you for having trouble. We’re proud that you’ve kept going on missions. Not everyone could do that, and the worst thing you’ve done is trip.”

Emily didn’t look convinced. “You mean that?”

Jamie patted his chest. “I’ve known far too many people who kept it all in. That’s never healthy. You’re a hunter like the rest of us. You’re a critical part of keeping this mission going, so you’re a critical part of this nation’s defense.”

“I’m fine.” She smiled. “Really, I am. It’s like you said. Sergeant Benson spent forever telling me how I saved my team after the mission, and Dr. Tolleson has helped me deal with the lingering issues.” She shrugged. “I can’t say it’s not bothering me, but it’s not like I wake up in a cold sweat. I can get through the day reviewing my research and experiments without much trouble. At the same time…” She looked away and sighed. “I shouldn’t say that. It’s not right.”

“At the same time, what?” Jamie nodded at the gun. “Is this too much?”

Emily stared at the pistol. “It’s weirdly relaxing. It might be harder if the targets weren’t just outlines, but the better I get at shooting, the more fun it is. I was afraid of guns, but now I realize they’re like any other tool. You can do both good and bad things with them.”

“Then what is it?” Jamie asked.

“No matter how many times Sergeant Benson tells me I did the right thing or how many techniques Dr. Tolleson teaches me, I don’t think I’ll ever be comfortable about having shot that man. I don’t think I’ll freeze in the future, but I’ll never be tough like you and Major Morgan. I’m not built that way. I’m worried about letting you down.”

“You weren’t recruited as a combat specialist. Nobody expects you to turn into one. Remember that half this unit consists of people who aren’t in a combat arms role.” Jamie gestured at the pistol. “Though you’ve got the accuracy of one.”

Emily chuckled. “It’s easy when it’s not moving or shooting at you. That’s the other thing about guns. You don’t have to be strong to use them.”

“Everyone’s here for different parts of the mission,” Jamie continued. “Without you, we’d have lost half our UPDOs, including that mummy and the musket. Besides, I think it’s a good thing you’re uncomfortable with what happened.”

Emily’s face scrunched in confusion. “You do? I don’t understand.”

“A person should never get comfortable with killing,” Jamie explained. “I’ve killed in this unit and in the past. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t affect me.” He motioned downrange. “In a job like this, it might be unavoidable, but we don’t want unnecessary confrontations.”

Emily frowned. “I wish the BCCS would just disappear, but George Drake is still out there. They’re coming back, aren’t they?”

“At some point. I wish I could say we destroyed them, but I doubt they only had one agent, and Drake isn’t above using mercenaries.”

“They know about us, and he’s got that creepy obsession with the major.” Emily shuddered. “What a freak.”

Jamie frowned. The BCCS agent in New Winter Creek had mentioned George Drake’s interest in Leah.

Despite that, George Drake might never show his face again. The BCCS had sent an agent to New Winter Creek, but Drake hadn’t been involved.

The BCCS was the opposite of the endless insurgents and terrorists he’d dealt with during his time in the Army. Drake’s terrorist organization was delusionally arrogant but had limited personnel. Legacy Operations Command could destroy the BCCS using planning and proactive operations. Jamie would prefer that to happen sooner rather than later.

He forced a smile for Emily’s sake. He didn’t want her to overthink the situation. “Setting them aside, I want you to understand how important you are to this unit and our overall mission.”

Emily shook her head. “I’m just a researcher.”

“Our missions live and die by research,” Jamie said. “You’re the perfect bridge between the field and warehouse operations. Between 1st Battalion and 2nd Battalion. I doubt we would have gotten permission to use the barrier candles in the field without your experiences and your help in maintaining those relationships.”

He gestured at the gun. “We used our weapons to take the gremlin down, but it wouldn’t have happened without the barrier candles. The gremlin would have escaped, and dozens, if not hundreds, of people would be dead in Dayton.”

“What about the next time the BCCS shows up?” Emily asked, her voice shaking. “What if I freeze and can’t take the shot? I keep thinking about what could happen to all of you.”

Jamie shrugged. “We wanted you trained so you could defend yourself if you had to, but you weren’t recruited into the unit only because you were resistant. We need your research expertise. Everything else is secondary.”

Emily eyed the pistol. “When you say it like that, I almost believe you.”

“Good.” Jamie grinned. “It’s true. Besides, you’re thinking about this the wrong way.”

“How do you figure?”

“You took the shot when we needed it most. You already proved you can protect the squad and the major.” Jamie waved and walked toward the door.

Emily’s breath caught. “I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s what people do when the pressure is on that means the most, not strutting and bragging in the barracks. You’re doing fine, Emily. That was all I came to say.” He laughed and stopped at the door. “I think our gremlin wrench will be our most dangerous job for a while, but keep practicing. It’s better to have skills so you’re ready when you’re forced to make a choice. And there’s one more thing for you to keep in mind.”

“What’s that?”

“You’re not just a member of our unit. You’re our friend, and we care about you. Understand?”

Emily smiled and nodded at the pistol. “Yes, and thank you. I’ll go through a few more magazines before I quit for the day.”

Jamie laughed. “Don’t get too far ahead of me.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Gerald stepped out of his tent. He’d brought it to the excavation site to escape the cold as he thought about the scripts and voiceovers. It only held a cot, a small folding table, and a space heater. He missed the heater when the outside air chilled him, though even inside, he could not escape the preternatural cold.

When he walked far enough away from the clearing, it disappeared. He couldn’t decide if it was a psychological or a physical phenomenon, but as long as he kept his focus and urged the crew onward, everything moved forward.

Gerald surveyed the area. The original clearing was now a half-excavated pit. The crew had carved through the hard-packed ground by hand and with small machines, and the lack of further snowfall had helped. It was like the weather wanted his show to succeed.

Piles of dirt and rock formed ramps running out of the pit. Workers walked up and down the ramps with shovels and pickaxes.

They’d uncovered the remains of stone walls in a star pattern surrounding a recessed stone and earth defensive structure, the key portion of the redoubt they sought. Although they hadn’t completely dug the walls out, they’d located a thick stone door. Indents on the sides suggested it might have been connected to wooden or metal handles that were long gone.

After they found the door, Gerald told them to concentrate on excavating it rather than the rest of the redoubt. It wasn’t as if they needed the walls cleared out for the show. Their efforts had revealed four lines of etched capitalized words on the door. That day had provided some of the most dramatic footage during the excavation.

The lines included Roman numerals. Gerald had loved the idea of the inscription but had lost his enthusiasm when Melody plugged the letters into her phone. Beyond the Latin for “God save the King,” the words were nonsense, a long-dead British soldier’s idea of a joke.

That was less frustrating than the harsh truth of the door. When they’d uncovered it, Gerald had brought Jesse over to make a triumphant entrance into the long-buried heart of the redoubt. The cameraman had caught ten minutes of pushing and grunting instead.

None of the crew could get the door open, even working together. Now, men in heavy coats pounded and shoveled the dirt away, covering the walls near the door. Gerald was focused on clearing out the dirt around the door and the nearby walls to find a locking mechanism or a clue on how to get the door open without busting it open.

The government would eventually catch up with him. His experiences had taught him that he could escape anything worse than a token fine if they caused no serious damage to the site. The network was happy to pay as long as his show remained profitable.

Their artifact findings amounted to flint scraps, the corroded remains of several musket balls, and half a rusted cannon barrel. He needed to pick up the pace and enter the redoubt. Finding artifacts increased the chance that annoying researchers would descend on the site. They’d slow him down with complaints about damage to the site. They could have whatever was left after he found the treasure.

He didn’t care about the historical value of old junk. He only cared about the money he would get from selling said junk, and also his ratings. Mr. Cornwallis was an idiot.

Gerald chuckled. If Mr. Cornwallis was the general’s ancestor, finding the redoubt wouldn’t prove anything. It wasn’t like Gerald and his team would overturn American history. He wouldn’t put anything on TV that risked alienating his core audience.

He walked over and descended a small ladder into the pit. Too many workers clogged the ramps. One shivered and dropped his shovel.

“You okay?” another asked.

“I’m fine. It’s just…” The shivering man shook his head, then grabbed his shovel and stood. “I swear, the minute we reach the pit, it gets twenty degrees colder. I’m wearing another layer, and it’s not helping.”

“I know what you mean. This place is haunted.”

Gerald jumped off the bottom rung and pulled out his phone. “Less talking, more digging. Unless we start night shifts? I’m sure more ghosts come out at night.”

The workers glared at Gerald. He folded his arms and glared back, since his network was paying them. They grumbled and headed back to the pit’s center.

Fear was contagious, which was good for the show but not for excavation. The worker wasn’t wrong. The deep chill had hung over the site from the beginning. He’d never admit that one of the reasons he’d insisted they stop digging at night was the feeling that they were being watched. Even he had his limits.

Gerald didn’t believe in ghosts or spirits. He was worried about yokels who took local history seriously. Confining the digging to daylight meant nobody could sneak up on them. That slowed things down since they all had to ride the rented UTVs back to town every night and to the site every morning, but nobody had been hurt. That also let them sleep in warm hotel rooms.

He squatted in the pit and started recording to make use of his fear. “We’re close now. There’s an eeriness here, the heavy weight of history, of dead and defeated men crying out for revenge. I can feel them watching me. Is it possible that the spirits of the dead linger on a battlefield?”

A worker shoveling dirt near the door looked over his shoulder with a frown. Gerald smiled at him. “This was a clearing before we started digging,” Gerald stated into his phone. “Soil tests confirmed high levels of lead. After almost two hundred and fifty years underground, even solid metal breaks down, but we’ve found signs of the soldiers who used this mini-fortress, including musket balls. Scientists might claim the high lead levels poisoned the soil, limiting the ability of trees to grow here, but what if there’s another explanation?”

Another worker glared at Gerald. He ignored them and stood, grinning despite the chill running down his spine. “What if the vengeful spirits poisoned the land? What if these men died protecting General Cornwallis’ final treasure, history forgetting their names and denying them their ultimate rest? What if they can’t move on, bound to the cursed treasure?”

Melody waved from the top of the pit. “Gerald, I need to talk to you.”

He sighed and stopped recording. After ascending the ladder, he frowned at her. “I was in the zone, Melody. This is quality material. I’ll rerecord later in the booth, but you don’t understand how much of my best material comes from inspiration on site.”

She looked worried. “We got another call from the state. They’re insisting we don’t have clearance for the excavation.”

He scoffed. He wouldn’t let something as trivial as the law stop him. “What did you say?”

“I said this had nothing to do with historical artifacts and directed them to our lawyers.” Melody’s shoulders slumped. “I’m lying to the government. I can’t believe I’m doing that.”

“You’re not lying. You’re repeating your employer’s official statement on the matter.” He folded his arms and tried not to shiver. “The government is like a giant slow boat. Once they get moving, they’re hard to stop, but it takes them forever to get up to speed. We’ll have what we need long before they can do anything to us.”

“Do you listen to yourself when you say things like that?” Melody asked.

“Cornwallis owns the land,” Gerald stated, “and he’s on our side. I’ve had idiot colleges and know-nothing bureaucrats come after me before.” He smiled. “Most likely scenario, they send out a few Department of Interior or state losers with deputies near the end of the shoot.” He gasped. “That could work!”

“Huh?” Melody stared at him. “Earth to Gerald. What are you talking about?”

“We can play up ‘The government’s trying to keep the secret of the ghost bunker from the public,’” he replied with a huge grin. “That would be a perfect season finale. Lots of shaky cams in the trailer. Make it seem like we’re about to get arrested while shouting, ‘What do they have to hide?’” He cupped his chin. “We should get somebody to launch fireworks nearby. We can do a big mystery cliffhanger. ‘What’s that? Are we getting shot at, or are they shooting at ghosts?’”

Melody walked closer and lowered her voice. “You should stop talking about ghosts so openly. I’ve been speaking with the workers, and most of them are freaked out. We all feel something strange here, even you. People are doing hardcore digging all day, working up a sweat, but they’re still cold, and then it’s like⁠—”

“It’s the brain playing tricks on everyone.” Gerald rolled his eyes. “People fear the dark, the unknown, and shadows. That’s the main attraction of my show. I take them along into the darkness with a history gloss. I just want to dress it up with more ghosts.” He gestured at the pit. “This is perfect. I should interview the workers.”

He shook his finger at her. “That is a great idea, Melody. The workers’ fear will frame the supernatural angle in a much better, more organic way.”

“You can’t do that,” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder. “I wasn’t trying to get you to interview them. People have been talking about quitting.”

“What?” Gerald shouted. He frowned when several workers looked his way and lowered his voice. “Are you shitting me?”

Melody shook her head. “People are afraid of this place. It doesn’t help that everyone hears you going on about vengeful spirits. You’re scaring them out of their minds, Gerald.”

“We have room in the budget. Don’t offer anything yet, but we will pay more if it comes down to it. Yorktown might just be museums and tourist stops, but there are tons of yokels in Newport News or Gloucester Point who wouldn’t mind making easy money to dig a hole.”

Melody groaned. “You need to take this seriously.”

“I’m the only one who does, and I smell ratings gold. Everyone else is whining about campfire stories because they’re a cold.” He pointed at her. “You keep doing your part, and you’ll ride the Gerald train until we’re the top reality show on the network.”

“I would…” Melody looked away. “Are you sure there isn’t something here?”

“I don’t care,” Gerald replied. “All we need is the right footage, reactions, and voiceovers, and I’ll make something be here.”

She took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. “The ground-penetrating radar we brought in didn’t work. Nobody can open the door. It’s cold and weird here. Don’t we have enough footage?”

“Not until we’re inside.”

“We’re pressing our luck, Gerald.”

Gerald stared at her, trying not to burst out laughing and draw more attention. “Are you telling me you believe this place is haunted? That there are ghosts here?”

“How do you explain what people are feeling? How do you explain what you saw that first day?”

“I told you. Most of that is suggestion and people letting their imaginations run away with them. That first day was a bird.”

“What about the radar? And the door?”

Gerald shrugged. “Do I look like an engineer? I don’t know.” He smirked. “Too much dirt and old bones blocking the door. This place has enough lead in the soil to stop big plants from growing. Maybe that has something to do with it.” He nodded at a tree at the clearing’s edge. “The wind funneled through the trees concentrate here. The cold is a trick, nothing more.”

Melody sighed. “It’s cold even when the wind isn’t blowing.”

“Grow up,” Gerald snapped. “Don’t be such a kid. There’s nothing here. I’ve been running through historical ruins since you were sucking your thumb. I’ve never seen anything to convince me that ghosts are real.” He pointed at a cooler on the back of a UTV. “Go get me something to eat and stop whining about bullshit. Before that, tell everyone we’re not leaving until we’ve cleared a foot around the door in all directions.”

Melody’s eyes widened. “From what the crew said, it’ll take a couple of hours past sunset. I thought you agreed not to dig in the dark?”

“Ask me if I care. Do it.” Gerald frowned. “If anyone refuses, tell them I will fire them, and the network will drag their feet on pay. Get to it.” He leaned forward. “Or you’re fired, and I’ll see that you never work in this industry again.”

“Yes, Gerald.” Melody stuck her hands in her pockets and trudged over to the UTV.

Fear and superstition wouldn’t stop him. Money and fame awaited the brave man who understood that the future was more important than the past.

“Bring it on, ghosts.” He shuddered when a chill ran through his bones. He needed to warm up inside his tent. “Your secrets are mine, and if you have none, I’ll make some up.”

Gerald shot awake. Was someone screaming? He didn’t hear anything more and assumed he’d had a bad dream. He scoffed. He was letting the atmosphere get to him. That wasn’t professional.

He sat up and shivered. Now he remembered. He’d come in for the heater and a thirty-minute nap to warm up. He’d drifted off to sleep despite the unease in the back of his mind whenever he was at the dig site.

Gerald rubbed his arms and glared at the heater, wondering why it felt colder than it had outside. He sniffed the air, only catching the musty notes of cold dirt and rocks.

“Gerald!” Melody shouted from outside the tent. Only her shadowed outline was visible. “You need to come out here.”

“One second.”

Gerald grabbed his coat from the table and stepped out, squinting at the floodlights illuminating the pit and the rest of the clearing. The entire crew, including Jesse and Melody, were gathered in the pit near the doorway.

“What’s going on?” Gerald rubbed his eyes. “Did somebody scream?”

“Yes!” Melody shouted. “I did.”

“You need to learn not to jump at your own shadow, girl.”

Gerald yawned and walked over to the edge of the pit. One of the crew lay on the ground with a narrow bloody wound in his chest. Another worker was performing CPR.

“Jesse, tell me you got that on camera,” Gerald called, pointing at the body.

“I…” Jesse shook his head. “I don’t know what happened.”

Gerald scrubbed a hand down his face. “We would have censored it, but we could show everything up to the moment.”

“That’s what you care about?” Jesse glared at him. “A man might be dead, Gerald.”

“It’s a tragedy.” Gerald looked around. “Okay, does anybody know what happened? There’s no damned way we’ll keep the government off this site now. I need answers.” He glared at the crew. “You let a local yokel come in and sabotage the site, or did he trip and impale himself on something?”

“I found the body.” Melody rubbed her eyes. “I thought I saw a red outline. I couldn’t make it out, and then I saw the body. By the time I looked back, the red glow was gone.”

Gerald stared at the fallen worker. The cold air challenged his lungs like he was charging through the Arctic and not a mild Virginia winter that hadn’t delivered snow in days. A fog filled his mind, making concentrating difficult except for the persistent feeling of someone watching. He tried to stop shaking, unsure if it was caused by cold, fear, or both.

This wasn’t like him. He tried to figure out his next move. The harsh reality was somebody died. Melody’s statement pointed to a murder, but he found that hard to believe.

Whatever the case, a dead man guaranteed the work would fall behind schedule. There had to be a way to get inside the door without blowing it open. Gerald had to devise a backup plan to save his season if the police shut the site down.

The worker giving CPR stopped and shook his head. “He’s gone.”

Another worker stepped up. “I served two tours overseas.” He pointed at the body. “I’ve seen men shot, stabbed, and blown up.”

“Why do I care?” Gerald asked, his teeth chattering and his breath coming out in puffs. It felt colder than it had the entire time, but the forecast had suggested a warm day.

“Because he was stabbed,” the worker stated.

Gerald’s heart raced. He didn’t need ghosts to save the show. He could pivot to true crime. He could end up on Netflix with an exclusive deal.

He pointed at the worker. “Jesse, did you get him on camera saying that?”

Jesse shook his head. “I’m not filming, man.”

“Start filming.” Gerald pointed at the worker. “You. Step back into the crowd and get ready to step out and say what you just said.”

“A man died,” Jesse protested. “Read the situation.”

Gerald rolled his eyes. “It’s not like he’ll come back to life if we don’t film this scene.” He pulled out his phone. “Take care of that while I call the cops.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Stern-faced, Leah stood before the meeting room’s screen. She motioned at a satellite photo depicting an excavation site in a forest near Yorktown, Virginia. Jamie, Sergeant Benson, and Emily sat around the table.

It had been thirty-six hours since the mysterious death of a worker at the dig site of a British redoubt from the Siege of Yorktown. “That’s all the Intelligence Platoon’s info. We’ve got one body with a stab wound and no witnesses despite an entire work crew, a cameraman, a TV host, and supporting personnel.”

Jamie folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, frowning. “You didn’t explain why this was flagged for us. As far as I can tell, we have a murder at a questionable archaeological site. I get the connection to the Revolutionary War, but none of this seems supernatural. Somebody got into a fight and killed another guy. It happens all the time.”

“The IP located persistent rumors from the workers’ social media about unexplained cold around the site,” Leah explained. “Along with the feeling of being watched. Many people there claimed it felt ten to twenty degrees colder than it was, and it’s gotten worse since they excavated the door to a central covered stone structure. They were having trouble collecting data with sensors, including ground-penetrating radar. There are also irregularities with the dig’s paperwork, and there are rumors of red shadows and flashes in the woods near the site.”

Benson laughed. “Major, the guy digging that up is Gerald Sposato.”

“The show’s host and one of the executive producers, according to the RP,” Leah noted. “What about him?”

“None of you have watched his shows, have you?”

“I am having the RP look into that,” Leah noted. “They’ll get us a report by this evening.”

Benson grinned. “The problem with being too smart is you don’t indulge in popular trash. My second wife loved his shows and got me hooked on them. He’s been doing the same crap for over twenty years. They usually last only a few seasons and are all the same thing. He kind of rotates where he is in the country.”

Leah nodded. “Go on.”

Benson shrugged. “From what I’ve seen, Gerald Sposato always pulls stunts like this. Sometimes, he’s legal. Sometimes, he’s semi-legal. It’s fake melodramatic drama, dark voiceovers, and him claiming people are coming to shut him down any second to keep a historical conspiracy and treasure hidden. I figure he doesn’t get his paperwork straight on purpose. He’s also gotten his ass beat by locals saying he was disrespectful. I wouldn’t be surprised if some old Virginian who loves his history decided to teach him a lesson by stabbing one of his people.”

Leah was not an expert on sketchy reality shows. She doubted the hunters filling the Intelligence and Research Platoons were either, and accurate mission intelligence was valuable regardless of source. Sergeant Benson’s information helped.

“Given what you said,” Leah began, “the social media reports and other statements could be faked. He’s taking advantage of an accident or murder for ratings.”

Jamie snorted. “Great guy.”

Benson shook his head. “Yeah, he’s not great, but he’s never done supernatural shows before. The theme is always hidden treasure, conspiracies, and secrets. He’ll spend weeks and months with shaky cameras, claiming he will find treasure or a piece of evidence that will overturn history. In the end, he never finds anything conclusive.”

“He’s had shows for twenty years?” Leah asked, surprised. “People are interested in years of treasure hunts that lead nowhere?”

“It’s kayfabe,” Benson replied.

“What? What language is that?” Leah frowned and glanced at Jamie.

“Professional Wrestling-ese,” Benson replied with a laugh. “Pro wrestling’s fake, and even back in the day, everyone understood that. They still know, but they pretend it’s real to enjoy it. Everyone from the performers to the audience is on it. That’s the kayfabe, a fake scripted performance you treat as unscripted.”

“I understand the concept, but I hadn’t heard the term,” Leah admitted.

Benson grinned. “Sposato and people like him are kayfabe. Sure, people might think he’s close to uncovering that Freemasons replaced George Washington with a look-alike, but most are having fun pretending it’s real while knowing it’s not.”

“Does no one get frustrated with his lack of success?”

Benson shrugged. “Sposato always has an excuse for not finding the truth. Usually, he claims somebody stole the treasure or document right when he was about to find it.”

Jamie frowned. “It’s not impossible if he was stumbling onto items the BCCS was looking for.”

“Nothing’s impossible, but he’s never talked about UPDO-style finds. He once claimed he found a second Al Capone vault containing an inner safe with evidence that Elliot Ness was on the take.” Benson traced the shape of the vault with his hands. “He showed an empty vault in Chicago and claimed the safe was stolen before he could open it. Then there was the time he swore he’d tracked down Billy the Kid’s stash from a series of train robberies and there was evidence in that stash that implicated a second shooter in Lincoln’s assassination.”

Emily looked up from her tablet. “Billy the Kid was more a rustler than a bank or train robber.”

“You’re missing the point, Doc,” Benson replied. “Sposato claimed somebody sent him a secret diary revealing that Billy the Kid had stolen a bunch of gold during a train robbery, and the Pinkertons covered it up because it’d prove they were involved with Lincoln’s assassination. The gold was supposed to be part of the payoff for the assassination delivered years later.”

Emily frowned. “I find that an unlikely series of events, based on known history. If the Pinkertons wanted Lincoln dead, then why… You’re right. I missed the point.” She sighed. “This is hurting my soul.”

Jamie shrugged. “We’re a secret unit investigating far more bizarre items. We can’t dismiss anything out of hand.”

Emily pushed up her glasses and typed on the tablet. “Money gets spent. Billy the Kid wasn’t that secretive. All of this convinces me Gerald Sposato is a liar and a con artist.”

Benson shook his head. “He is. He lies about missing treasure, but I’ve never heard him claim that one of his fancy tools didn’t work during an investigation. He’s used radar to justify continuing an investigation by claiming he was close to finding a secret chamber.”

“Then Jamie’s right. He could have stumbled onto something he shouldn’t have,” Leah concluded. “It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve encountered that, even if this case is more dramatic.”

Emily frowned at her tablet. “I’m not an expert on ground-penetrating radar, but I have experience with it. From the readings the IP got from Sposato’s network, these patterns don’t look like the type of interference you’d expect from unusual mineral interactions. They also reported constant positives from metal detectors to the point where they were useless.”

Jamie turned Leah’s way with a raised eyebrow. “We already have their data?”

“Some of it,” Leah confirmed. “A high-level request routed via the Department of Interior to Sposato’s network facilitated them sending us the information. They mentioned writing and numbers on the door they uncovered on the site. We haven’t been able to get our hands on any pictures yet. For some reason, Sposato didn’t make that information accessible to the network. I’m not concerned since we’ll check the site out soon.”

“That’s part of his strategy of mystery.” Benson grinned. “He’s allegedly lost recordings or other evidence on previous shows. He does it to have an excuse to delete inconvenient evidence that contradicts him. I’m surprised Interior got us anything useful.”

Jamie chuckled. “It’s funny that we’re using the Department of Interior since that’s our official bureaucratic cover, even though we never refer to it.”

“It helps since this time, we’re dealing with semi-illegal archaeological dig and a television network trying not to get in more trouble.” Leah gestured at Emily. “Thank you for that information on the radar. That only increases my concern about dealing with a UPDO when combined with the other evidence. Do you believe Sposato faked the data?”

Emily shrugged. “It’s possible, but from what we know of him, it doesn’t seem like he could do it in a non-obvious way. I can’t come to any firm conclusions.”

“Before we worry about faked data, who is our dead guy?” Jamie asked.

“One of the temp workers hired to excavate the site,” Leah explained. “The RP and the IP did a deep dive on him and found nothing. The police are waiting on test results, but he appears to have died of a stab wound to the heart inflicted by a thin piercing weapon. They’re unsure of the type, though initial reports lean toward an ice pick.”

Jamie frowned. “Not a knife?”

Leah shook her head. “Not according to the medical examiner.”

Emily turned her tablet around so everyone could see an image of an unattached bayonet. “Although the bayonets used by both sides in the Siege of Yorktown varied in design, this type was in common use. Upon initial examination, a wound caused by a bayonet like this would be similar to one caused by an ice pick wound.”

“It’s not like a modern coroner would expect somebody to be stabbed with a bayonet.” Leah walked away from the screen and sat in her chair. “Are we looking for a cursed bayonet, or another cursed musket? It would be annoying if this UPDO had similar side effects. From what Sergeant Benson said, Sposato wouldn’t conceal any artifacts he found, but the police’s initial statements only mention musket balls and a portion of a cannon barrel. Those sound like our best bets for UPDOs.”

Jamie shook his head. “We can’t jump ahead. Right now, we only have a dead guy and spooked workers. If I had to dig a hole in an old battlefield in the middle of the woods in the winter, I’d be freaked, too.”

“There’s the question of who would sign off on a pseudo-history reality show hack digging up their land without archaeologists,” Leah continued. “The IP and the RP are also looking into the owners. The police statements point to a company called American Historical Forests.”

She frowned. “That matches what our people found. The problem is, American Historical Forests is a shell corporation. The deeper our people press, the more irregularities they find, including listed owners who don’t exist and rented offices with no activity. Sposato turned over messages and emails from official company email accounts and claims he was dealing with different people.”

Jamie’s brows rose. “That’s suspicious.”

Leah nodded. “A combination of odd reports, historical artifacts, and a company that doesn’t exist except in computer databases might point to the BCCS. That is why I feel this is a mission for us.”

Benson furrowed his brow. “Why would the BCCS send a reality show treasure hunter to dig up a site? A guy like Gerald Sposato is not BCCS. He’s everything a snobby asshole like George Drake hates.”

“The BCCS knows we’re tracking them,” Jamie noted. “They might have hoped they could access any UPDOs on site using a front. We don’t know it’s the BCCS from a shared first name and a suspicious front company.”

“Then who do you think is behind American Historical Forests?” Leah asked.

Jamie shrugged. “I have no clue. It could be sophisticated money laundering by the Mafia. The BCCS is a threat, but they’re not the only group of terrorists and criminals out there.”

“I’d prefer it was the Mafia,” Leah admitted. “It’d make it easy to pass this off to the FBI.” She glanced at the satellite photo. “For now, we’ll assume there is an active UPDO on the site and that the BCCS is involved. The timing will make a Legacy Shield difficult, but the sheriff is keeping the murder investigation quiet out of concern about impacting local tourism.”

“What’s our plan and cover, then?” Jamie asked.

Leah smiled. “As far as Sposato and his crew are concerned, the Department of Interior and the EPA now have a strong interest in this dig.”

“Why the EPA?” Emily asked.

“Because of a chemical leak,” Leah replied. “We’ll present ourselves as a special joint investigatory team from Interior and the EPA, there to investigate the archaeological site and an unusual chemical threat. The goal is to establish a plausible explanation for what led to the man’s death if we find evidence that it was related to a UPDO. The FBI will handle his murder investigation, but the responsible agents are linked to people in the old task force, so they won’t interfere with our site investigation.”

Benson looked confused. “We’re trying to explain a stabbing with chemicals?”

“The chemical threat is to keep people away from the site while we investigate,” Leah clarified. “We can find a convenient bayonet and suggest he hallucinated, then tripped or whatever, presuming he wasn’t murdered.” She gestured at the photo. “My main concern is that while Yorktown is a tiny historical hamlet, it’s not far from larger towns and cities. We can’t risk crime tourism complicating our mission.”

Emily set her tablet down, looking more confused than Benson. “I don’t understand why anyone would suspect a chemical leak from a Revolutionary War-era redoubt. Are you talking about lead poisoning?”

Leah shook her head. “There have been military bases and chemical factories in that area for a long time. There’s a naval weapons station close by. It’ll be easy to claim that sometime in the preceding decades, someone dumped things they shouldn’t, and the workers got unlucky, like a farmer in France finding a UXO from World War II.”

“What’s a UXO?” Emily asked.

“Unexploded ordnance,” Benson explained.

Emily grimaced. “Don’t people clean that sort of thing up?”

“They try, but you’re a historian. You know how many bombs are dropped in wars.”

“I specialize in American continental history, which involves fewer UXOs, but you’re right.” Emily shivered. “So, our story is a UXO chemical weapon?”

“Something like that,” Leah said. “I coordinated with Colonel Washington to get the official support we’ll need. If this drags on, it’ll be difficult to maintain the cover. The body’s being routed to the FBI, and the locals are fine with that. Our unit will investigate the site, and we need to solve this before things get out of hand and people start asking questions.”

Jamie gestured toward the photo. “If we suspect the BCCS is involved, we should prepare to engage hostile mercenary forces and agents using weaponized UPDOs.”

Leah nodded. “We’ll bring an infantry squad and have them pose as a contractor crew hired by Interior. Given Yorktown’s proximity to Camp Legacy, it’ll be easy to get reinforcements if we need more. We’ll also be bringing those four barrier candles. I hope we don’t have to rely on them, but they proved their worth with the gremlin wrench.”

She stood. “If this has nothing to do with UPDOs, we’ll investigate and collect. Lieutenant, I’ll leave the squad selection up to you. Be ready to roll out tomorrow at 0600.”

“Understood, Major.”

Leah smiled. “Let’s keep up the American victories at Yorktown.”

CHAPTER NINE

The next morning, Jamie rolled the fourth ATV out of the back of the trailer attached to their rented truck. They had parked on the road on the edge of a forest west of Yorktown and geared up.

Everyone carried a rifle and pistol except Emily, who only carried an M17 pistol in a belt holster. Any civilians who happened upon them might wonder why a joint Interior/EPA team was so heavily armed.

He wasn’t concerned about random people. Leah had had Colonel Washington pull strings to get the road closed off in this part of the county while they investigated. Jamie chuckled. Both Legacy Operations Command and Gerald Sposato used deception. In the unit’s case, they were trying to protect people from the dangers of UPDOs. Sposato lied to draw attention to himself.

Emily squatted beside her ATV with a puzzled look, then sighed and stood.

Jamie turned to her. “I thought you knew how to drive one of these. We can double up if you’re uncomfortable. We will add that training to your rotation if you want.”

“Do you have the other hunters train on ATVs?” Emily sounded surprised.

“Our field personnel train on a variety of equipment. We’ve worried about nonstandard mission environments from the beginning. Remember when I sent that skills survey to our personnel a few months ago?”

“Is that what that was about!”

Jamie nodded. “Our missions are sporadic, which leaves plenty of time for training, and combat is not our primary mission, which means we need to be flexible. The major and I are trying to ensure we never end up losing a UPDO because somebody in the unit doesn’t have the necessary skills to complete the mission.”

“Everybody can’t be good at everything,” Emily objected. “We only have four resistant hunters.”

“We’re not expecting our people to be good at everything, but we’re cultivating a field team with most of the skills we need.” He gestured at her. “Any large unit will include many abilities.”

Emily smiled. “For the record, I have tons of experience driving ATVs.” She gestured at the trees. “This isn’t my first time traveling to a site that can’t be reached by car, and as Gerald Sposato figured out, you can’t always walk to a location.”

“You looked a concerned,” Jamie explained. “That was why I asked.”

“It’s not far,” Emily said. “It’s just, there are so many trees. We’ll want to be careful. I’ve seen people crash ATVs in forests like this, so I worry.”

“We’re not in a race. We’ll be fine.” Jamie glanced at Leah. “When I reviewed the data Sposato’s people handed over, nobody mentioned trouble with GPS. They also reported having phone reception. Although traveling to and from town will be inconvenient, we won’t be isolated.”

Leah replied, “I would have thought they’d have more trouble, and that bothers me. There are towns and facilities in almost every direction. Emily’s right. Could something this close escape notice for centuries?”

Jamie peered into the forest. “You’re saying the archaeological site popped into existence because of a UPDO?”

Leah shook her head. “American Historical Forests sent Sposato to the site, which implies it was already there. I had the RP double-check, and the clearing is present in old satellite photos and pre-modern maps. It’s been here for a long time.”

Benson grinned. “You’re all overthinking this. That murder mummy slept inside the Old North Church in the middle of Boston for centuries. Nobody found it until it made noise, and that place is always crawling with tourists.”

Leah’s brows rose. “You make a good point, Sergeant. Unless we run into a time-travel UPDO, this site was buried, and nobody bothered to dig it up.”

Jamie wouldn’t worry about time travel until he encountered evidence that it was real. “The infantry squad is on standby at the hotel in town. They have their own ATVs. We won’t have trouble getting them if we need them.” He held up his phone. “I checked before I unloaded the ATVs. There has been no activity at the site since our drones arrived, and no problems with the cameras or drone loitering or battery life. The door is still closed. Do you want me to contact the infantry squad and have them accompany us, Major?”

“I’m not worried about an engagement with the door still closed.” Leah nodded at Emily. “The FBI’s examination supports the theory that the victim was stabbed with a bayonet. They also report unusual coagulation in the wound. They don’t have an explanation.”

“The explanation is a UPDO,” Jamie suggested.

Leah adjusted her earpiece. “I don’t understand how one man was killed, and everyone else was there at the time, but no one else was attacked. Sposato admitted to the locals that he has felt like they were being watched since they started digging, so there was plenty of time for other attacks to occur. They had uncovered most of the door a couple of days before, and based on their reports, there’s no clear reason for the incident. You’d think if it was the door, it would have happened the day they encountered it.”

“The UPDO might have needed time between first contact and manifestation,” Emily suggested. “What if the UPDO is fueled by the people near it?”

“That could be it. The police were out there several times and didn’t encounter anything.” Leah squinted into the forest. “I doubt this is as simple as ‘weeks pass and bodies hit the ground.’”

Benson shrugged. “What if the worker found the UPDO and it killed him?”

Leah shook her head. “Nobody else saw anything unusual. There was no special reaction to the artifacts they found, given the reports. The site was affecting people, not the musket balls and flints.”

Emily climbed onto her ATV. “What will we do if the entire site is the UPDO?”

“We’ll move it all if necessary,” Leah replied. “Right now, we don’t know anything other than what we’ve read from unreliable sources.” She hopped onto her ATV and started the engine. “We’ll survey the site and go from there.” She nodded at Jamie. “Take point.”

Jamie pointed at a flattened section of brush. “Sposato’s team blazed a trail for us. That’s convenient.”

“Keep alert,” Leah ordered. “I don’t want any casualties on our first day.”

As the crow flew, it wasn’t far from their truck to the dig site, but as Emily feared, the team couldn’t ride flat out without risking running into a tree. They rumbled through the forest, slowing now and again to drive around a dense patch of trees or thick bushes.

Jamie was more interested in getting there safely than quickly. He was no longer worried about how the redoubt had remained hidden. With no roads and dense trees, he doubted that many people other than the occasional hunter traveled through the area. They’d have no reason to dig up a clearing on somebody else’s land.

As Jamie slowed and drove around a fallen tree covered with moss, the wheels slung up mud. There was no snow left, though a few degrees’ dip could bring on another freeze. “I’m surprised Sposato and his team went in and out daily. This isn’t fun.”

“Can you blame them?” Benson asked. “Who’d want to camp in a place that feels haunted?”

“If they were willing to spend all day at a haunted site, why not camp there?”

“Not everyone has our unit’s discipline,” Leah noted. “He’s a TV show host with a group of hired workers. I’m sure they weren’t being paid enough to convince them to stay in a frigid place they thought was haunted.”

Emily trailed the formation. She wasn’t having any trouble keeping up or controlling her vehicle. “Their choice to come and go might have saved lives.”

“If this takes longer than today,” Leah said, “we’ll set up on site. Otherwise, we’ll risk having to explain ourselves and our equipment.”

A sparse stretch allowed the squad to speed up. The ATVs rattled as they tore through the undergrowth. This was far from a jaunt on the beach.

“It’s impressive that they managed to excavate that much of the redoubt so quickly,” Emily remarked. “It would have taken any of my teams far longer.” She sighed. “From the initial reports, it’s clear that preserving the site’s integrity was way down on their priority list.”

“That’s Gerald Sposato for you,” Benson growled.

Leah’s ATV hit a bump and took to the air. She grunted at the hard landing. Jamie glanced over his shoulder but had to return his attention to the trail. He trusted his commanding officer.

“My working theory,” Leah began, “is that the BCCS was hoping to use Sposato to uncover the site. They’d then come in and take the artifacts.”

“There’s no sign of BCCS activity,” Jamie protested. “We established drone coverage just after the last police officer left. That was a narrow window to loot the site.” He slowed and drove around a fallen log. “Or do you think they killed the worker?”

“No reason for them to kill the worker and draw attention to the site,” Leah replied. “And it’s like you said. We’ve had solid coverage.”

“They’ve proven they can beat drones,” Benson sent.

“It’s not like they can go to Walmart and pick up replacement UPDOs,” Leah replied. “There’s also no evidence of the site changing. Even invisible men leave trails. They haven’t come yet, if it is them, but we also can’t predict when they might.”

Jamie’s hands tightened on the handlebars. “George Drake is targeting you, Major. Are we sure this situation isn’t a trap?”

Leah scoffed. “If Drake’s targeting me, he’s made a mistake. This place is close to Camp Legacy, and we have immediate backup in town. This won’t be like New Winter Creek, and they lost there. We could have an entire armed infantry platoon here within an hour if necessary.”

Something red zipped between trees ahead of the squad, and Jamie slowed. Everyone followed his lead.

“Unknown contact at one o’clock,” Jamie reported. “Red color, unknown shape.”

“Lieutenant, you and Benson follow the target,” Leah ordered, slowing. “Sposato’s assistant reported seeing something red before she found the body. Sposato also reported sightings. Emily, stay with me.”

“Roger, Major,” Jamie replied.

He slowed to let Sergeant Benson catch up before turning toward the sighting. An increasing number of trees kept them under fifteen mph. They wouldn’t win a drag race, but they’d catch up with anyone short of Olympic sprinters.

Another blotch of red jumped between trees. Jamie couldn’t make out its shape or anything else. “I see movement. It’s about a hundred yards ahead of us. I see something moving between trees.”

“Same here,” Benson replied. “Could be a bird.”

“Too big to be a bird,” Jamie countered.

“Fox? You know, that makes me wonder what foxes do s⁠—”

“Don’t,” Leah snapped. “Focus on the task, Sergeant.”

Benson chuckled. “We’ve got this, Major.”

The mysterious red shadow zoomed to another tree. Jamie risked accelerating , and his ATV tore through a bush. He hit an elevated patch that sent two wheels off the ground. He gritted his teeth and slowed to avoid tipping over.

“Break off at forty-five degrees, Benson,” Jamie ordered. “We might be able to trap the target between us.”

“We better not be chasing another damned gremlin.” Benson pulled away from Jamie. “We’ll break our necks if we lose a wheel in this terrain.”

Jamie scanned the area as he rumbled past trees. He slowed after thirty seconds, seeing no sign of the target. “Target lost.”

“I’ve got nothing, Lieutenant.” Benson sounded annoyed.

“Okay, wait for us to catch up,” Leah radioed. “Contact the squad and tell them to come. I want them to sweep the area on foot from the forest’s edge to the excavation site. Make sure their cordon is wide without losing sight of one another.”

CHAPTER TEN

Leah swerved around the rusty, overgrown skeleton of a child’s bicycle. She wondered how many years ago the kid had lost it. The bike wasn’t the only discarded item. Beer cans, a deflated car tire, and a wheelbarrow missing the wheel also littered the forest.

The implications bothered her. Had a hidden UPDO killed people for years and escaped attention?

She slowed the ATV and looked to the side, frowning at now-familiar outlines of hard angles and unnatural colors in the distance. They’d driven close enough to the excavation site to spot its leftover equipment and tents.

Jamie was leading them in a rough circle. Leah was mentally marking landmarks, oddly shaped bushes, and distinctive trees.

Even if she couldn’t see the equipment and tents, she would have known they were close from the chillier air. They’d driven this way four times, moving in and out of a colder zone with each pass.

Nobody reported feeling the unease or the sensation of being watched that Gerald Sposato’s crew had mentioned. Was that a difference in the environment or a product of her squad’s resistance?

Forty-five minutes of riding through the woods had uncovered no source for the red shadow sightings, and the infantry squad had spent thirty minutes hunting without finding anything. She’d had them tighten their cordon.

“We’re still negative on targets, Legacy One,” Second Lieutenant Obi radioed.

Lieutenant Obi was leading this squad. Leah had given the hunters from the gremlin recovery time off. For most missions, personnel cycling wasn’t an issue. There was enough time for the troops to recover physically and mentally. Maybe the gremlin’s bad luck had caught up with the unit.

Or was it good luck? If they were so busy that they needed more personnel, Legacy Operations Command was achieving its goal of finding and neutralizing UPDOs.

“Copy that, Minuteman One,” Leah replied. “Maintain search pattern.”

“Roger that, Legacy One.”

The difference in reactions between Obi’s squad and hers confirmed the presence of a UPDO and justified calling in support and the aggressive investigation. It also meant she’d have to limit Obi’s squad’s exposure to the affected area.

“No contacts, no trails,” Obi added. “If there’s anything out here, we’re not seeing it. We only see the UTV tracks from Sposato’s people and scattered footprints near those. Someone could have used those tracks to cover theirs, but we should see something.”

“Copy that, Minuteman One,” Leah replied. She gestured for her squad to follow and stopped close to the dig site. Jamie looked confused. She reached for her radio to kill her transmission and waited for Jamie, Emily, and Benson to reach her.

“You heard Obi, but what are you all feeling?” Leah asked. “I wanted to triple-check.”

“It’s colder here, same as before,” Jamie nodded at the pit. “I’d estimate a side-effect zone, a chill zone if you want, that extends at least a hundred yards, give or take a couple, from the edge of the clearing in all directions. We’ve circled the area enough to establish that.”

Benson nodded. “Same here. My poker sense is screaming that there’s a real deal UPDO.”

“I don’t need a poker sense to agree,” Leah replied. “A hundred yards wouldn’t be so bad without the trees. We’ll have to be strategic about backup deployments.”

She turned to Emily expectantly. Sergeant Benson and Jamie had both experienced wars. Their baseline for discomfort might be different.

Emily rubbed her hands together. “I feel the same as them, Major, but one second. I want to test something since I have a theory.”

She pulled off her backpack and rummaged through it. She retrieved a small temperature gun and aimed it at her side. With a press of the trigger, the gun beeped. “I want to check the temperature away from the site,” she said, eyeing the readout. “I will leave the chill zone.”

“Go ahead,” Leah confirmed. “Lieutenant, go with her.”

Emily set her backpack on the ground before slowly reversing her vehicle away from the squad. Jamie pulled his ATV around and followed her. They almost disappeared into the dense woods before turning around and heading back.

Jamie pulled up first. Emily parked behind him with a frown.

“It’s a trick,” Emily said. “No. Trick isn’t the right word.” She pointed at her head. “I don’t know if it’s hacking our brains. According to my temperature readings, it’s the same temperature inside and outside the chill zone despite us feeling a clear difference.”

“That’s interesting,” Leah mused. “I don’t know if we can use that information, but it proves that it’s not always physically colder like we’ve seen with other UPDOs.”

“You can’t use a machine to measure the temperature of the soul,” Benson offered.

Emily shivered. “That’s creepy in its implications.”

“We don’t operate on implications,” Leah interjected. “We operate on what we know and can predict.”

Benson laughed. “I like how you can say that straight-faced when we deal with cursed and haunted stuff, Major.”

“It’s just a type of science we haven’t figured out yet,” Leah replied. “I’m sure here in twenty years, we’ll have UPDO specialists to explain things.”

Benson shrugged. “Whatever you say, Major.”

“Her point remains.” Jamie frowned. “It doesn’t matter if it’s aliens, magic, or we’re trapped in the Matrix. In the end, all we can do is handle the mission based on the intelligence we’ve collected.”

Benson pointed at a mini-backhoe parked at the edge of the clearing. “I’d love to drive that baby, and before you ask, Major, I am qualified. I put it on my skills survey.”

“We’re not further excavating the redoubt until we have a solid reason to do so.” Leah peered at the camp, looking for red shadows or blurs. “That could make it worse. In the optimal scenario, we will get through the door, look inside, find a loose UPDO, and transport it out of here. We will leave everything else behind for archaeologists.”

“Do you think it’ll be that easy?” Emily asked. “I understand we have an advantage with our resistance, but somebody already died.”

Leah shook her head. “I don’t think it’ll be a trivial recovery. I wouldn’t have brought all this equipment and an infantry squad if I believed that.” She looked over her shoulder with a frown. “Do any of you feel like you are being watched now that we’re closer?”

All three shook their heads, and Jamie asked, “Do you?”

Leah was surprised by her relief. “No, I don’t. All of Sposato’s people reported that sensation. Though it feels colder near the site, it’s nowhere near as bad as they said.”

“It’s our resistance,” Jamie suggested. “It didn’t save us from a gremlin manipulating the environment, but this directly affects us.” He glanced at Emily. “Souls, bodies, or brains.”

Emily rubbed her shoulders. “Every mission, this job gets spookier.”

Jamie raised an eyebrow. “The Christmas coal was spooky?”

“That was just silly. I wonder what would have happened if we didn’t have resistance.”

“Resistance is useful,” Leah agreed. “It won’t save us from getting bayoneted by whatever killed that worker, though. The lesson from New Winter Creek was that resistance won’t protect us from the worst effects, and we need to be careful about our backup.” She reached for her radio. “Minuteman One, verify what you’re experiencing when you’re close to the site.”

“We’re freezing our balls off, Major,” Obi replied. “I’d estimate a ten to twenty-degree temperature difference. Also, I don’t know how to describe it, but it’s like we have eyes on us. You think the target’s watching us, Legacy One?”

“We’re unsure at this time,” Leah replied. “Maintain situational awareness. I’m worried about invisibility or teleportation UPDOs, but we have zero proof of any here. The resistant personnel all report reduced exposure symptoms. We didn’t find our red shadow, but this confirms a UPDO at the site.”

“Orders?”

“Regroup just outside the chill zone and be ready for fast entry if requested,” Leah continued. “I’m taking my squad into the pit. That might stir the pot and bring out trouble, but I don’t want you to risk UPDO exposure for longer than necessary. There’s no evidence that this thing disrupts comms. We’ll call for help if we need it.”

“Roger, Legacy One. We’ll keep an ear out either way.”

Leah turned to Jamie, expecting him to object. He just nodded and revved his engine. She pushed her ATV forward at a crawl, scanning for movements or unexpected red flashes.

“I should take point, Major,” Jamie said.

There it was again—the overprotectiveness. She couldn’t say he was wrong, just too focused on her. Losing any of the resistant personnel risked the mission. She wasn’t any more important because she was in command.

“Be careful, Lieutenant,” she replied. “We don’t know what we saw earlier, but we know somebody was bayoneted here without anyone seeing the killer. There’s a chance the UPDO can isolate one target and fool everyone else’s senses.”

“I’d guess that by the time I retire, I’ll have a dozen ‘I almost got bayoneted or possessed’ stories.” Jamie accelerated past Leah. “In the end, I’ll die tripping over a bucket.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Jamie pulsed the brakes and killed the throttle. The ATV approached the clearing’s edge, and he coasted to a stop.

Closely packed tents curved around one edge of the pit. Abandoned crates of equipment, tools, and smaller machinery were scattered around the pit, including Sergeant Benson’s mini-backhoe and a Bobcat.

Sposato’s team reported excavating the tops of the outer stone walls but not much else other than the wide path to the central door. The workers had also cleared the dirt around the ladder, forming a shrinking cone approaching the door. Nobody had worked here since the TV team departed since the site didn’t look any different from the drone feeds.

That didn’t mean the squad was safe. New Winter Creek had proved that the enemy could use UPDOs to hide from human eyes and drone cameras. They could not let their guard down until they were back at Camp Legacy and the UPDO was secure in the LTSW in Kansas.

Jamie sympathized with Leah’s frustration. No matter how careful the team was, they risked encountering a surprise UPDO.

He hopped off the ATV and unslung his rifle, though there was no guarantee it would help him against a supernatural threat. The gremlin mission had reinforced UPDOs’ unpredictability.

The red shadow worried him. He doubted it was clever kids or animals messing with them. The BCCS didn’t need to be on site for the team to take losses. Losing resistant personnel would be as dangerous to Legacy Operations Command as fighting their enemies.

Sergeant Benson and Emily pulled up. Leah brought up the rear. Benson and Leah readied their weapons. Emily gave Leah a confused look.

“You don’t need to draw your weapon yet, Emily,” Leah explained. “If our rifles can’t handle it, I doubt your pistol will take down our little red gremlin. That’s assuming it was real.”

Emily winced. “You think it’s another gremlin? Wouldn’t we be having accidents?”

Leah’s wording had confused Jamie. She had not mentioned a gremlin earlier.

“Did you see it, Major?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I don’t know what it is, so ‘red gremlin’ will do as a placeholder until we isolate the UPDO. Red shadow or blur doesn’t have the same punch.”

“Oh.” Emily blinked. “I see. I’m not sure if I am relieved or worried that we don’t know what you saw.”

Benson eyed the mini-backhoe. “They just left all this stuff here?”

“The police ordered them to,” Leah told him. “The authorities wanted to look for evidence.”

“They’re lucky nobody stole anything.”

Jamie walked toward the edge of the pit. “Anyone willing to come through the woods to this site to steal something deserves it as a reward.”

Benson chuckled. “The local crooks are wimps.”

“Good.” Leah smiled. “I don’t need more bodies complicating the situation. We’re lucky it’s inconvenient to get to this place. I don’t know how long we have before news reports leak and people start showing up with cameras and drones.”

“In other words,” Benson began, “you don’t want Gerald Sposato’s conspiracy theories about the government hiding things to become reality.”

Leah scoffed. “They are real. I just don’t want to confirm it.”

Emily walked to the pit‘s edge, squatted, and pointed at the door. “Can we take a closer look at that? I don’t understand why nobody had clear pictures for us. Was it just the host keeping the information to himself?”

“It might be a side effect of the UPDO.” Jamie glanced up. “We kept the drones at altitude for safety reasons. We should have had them investigate directly.”

“That is what I am worried about. This will get annoying if I can’t record anything.” Emily shook her head. “Sometimes I wonder if I should learn to draw like the old-school archaeologists and scientists.”

“Maybe everyone was sloppy,” Jamie suggested. “If we’d taken longer to come, it might have been available, but we’re here now, so it doesn’t matter. Don’t book those art lessons yet, Emily.” He looked around. “What’s the call, Major? Do we wait for our red gremlin to show up before making our next move?”

Leah shook her head. “We don’t have time to waste.” She gestured at Jamie, then the ladder. “Benson and I will stay up here and watch for trouble. You go with Emily.”

Jamie slung his rifle over his shoulder and climbed down the ladder. He backed away but didn’t head toward the door until Emily was in the pit. He held up a hand to stop her and looked around. Satisfied there wasn’t anything down there they couldn’t see from above, he led her to the door.

“Can you still see us?” he called, making eye contact with Benson and Leah.

Benson laughed. “Even I’m not old enough for that to be a problem. You’re not in the center of the Earth, Lieutenant.”

Leah walked to the edge. “He’s confirming a lack of UPDO effects in the pit versus the rest of the site. We can’t take anything for granted. There could have been an illusion layer.”

“Gotcha.” Benson looked over his shoulder. “This entire thing could be an illusion.” He tapped his forehead. “It could all be in our heads. We could all be passed out on ATVs in a faerie ring in the forest.”

Leah frowned. “Trust me. I, of all people, understand the threat of UPDO-induced hallucination.”

Benson looked away with a grimace. “Sorry, Major. I wasn’t trying to be a dick or bring up bad memories.”

“Identifying a threat scenario isn’t being a dick,” she replied. “It’s you doing your job. I’ll never be upset with you for doing your job.”

Jamie stopped near the door, watching Emily while listening to the conversation above. He’d failed Leah and Emily in New Winter Creek. He wouldn’t let that happen again.

Emily reached into her backpack and fished out two small digital SLR cameras with straps. She draped one over her neck and snapped pictures with the other. Her worried face eased into an excited smile.

Jamie admired her passion for academic exploration and discovery. In another life, he could have been a noncombatant researcher recruited for his linguistic expertise.

Emily lowered the camera and inspected the screen on the back. “The pictures are fine. No distortion. Crystal clear.” She took a picture with the other camera. “The infrared camera is fine, too.”

“That’s good,” Leah called. “The fewer UPDO effects to worry about, the better.”

Jamie stepped toward the door. “I don’t feel any colder standing closer to the door.”

Emily took more pictures. “Me either.”

Jamie looked at Leah. “I’m going to touch it. With your permission, Major.”

She nodded and readied her rifle. “Go ahead. Glove only.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jamie touched the door, and his fingers got numb. “It’s like the coldness is passing through my gloves into my fingers.”

“What’s our mystery door say?” Leah asked. “That’s my main concern.”

“I’m betting it’s ‘Colonials suck, and King George rules!’” Benson suggested.

“That’d be interesting, but I doubt it’s that simple.”

Jamie squinted at the door. The section markers were the only clear information on it, though he wasn’t sure if they meant anything.

A VII

G XIV

G XXVII

G LX

Three Gs in a row were not random. He tilted his head, wondering if there was a directional element he was missing in the text before the As and Gs. “The text doesn’t correspond to any language I know, but it’s too regular to be nonsense. I’m not sure what these final bits are, but the Roman numerals are clear. There’s one obvious answer.”

“It’s encrypted,” Leah suggested.

Jamie nodded. “Their encryption techniques weren’t advanced. I’d guess it’s a type of Caesar cipher with the section markers as the keys.”

Benson asked, “You’ve mentioned them before, but I didn’t understand how they worked.”

Jamie motioned to the first line of text. “It’s simple in principle. Imagine that every letter in the alphabet has a corresponding value. A classic example is A having the value of one and Z having the value of twenty-six. They don’t have to be but are generally sequential.”

Benson nodded. “That’s easy enough.”

Jamie tapped the section header A VII. “Assuming these are the keys, they’ll transform the letters’ value. The simplest version is a shift cipher. For example, add or subtract a fixed value to a letter with the key to get the plaintext.”

“A lot of trouble and math,” Benson grumbled.

Emily moved closer and took individual pictures of each section. “Oh! I’ve got it.”

“You do?” Leah asked, sounding surprised. “That would be helpful.”

“Queen Anne, 1707, George I, 1714, George II, 1727, and George III, 1760,” Emily declared. “It’s the accession dates for the first four British monarchs. They must be the keys.”

Benson gave her a confused look. “I’m no history buff, Doc, but isn’t England older than 1707?”

“England, yes, but not the United Kingdom. British monarchs, not English monarchs.”

Jamie grinned. “Great job, Emily. I get it. For the first section, A is seven, so we add or subtract seven from the letter value and convert. For the second section, G is fourteen. G has a basic value of seven, so in this case, A’s value is also seven.”

“Same key for the first two sections,” Leah noted. “What about the last two?”

“With the first part being twenty-seven and the G value baked in, we end up with a shift of twenty. If a letter goes over twenty-six, we subtract twenty-six.” Jamie ran his finger over the third line. “Fifty-four at the end.” He frowned and shook his head. “I don’t think that’s right.”

Emily shook her head. “Those numbers are too specific, and the chance of the letters matching the monarchs seems low.”

“That’s not the part I doubt. It’s the cipher keys. What’s the point of using two keys with the same shift? They could have used the same key if they didn't care.” Jamie stepped back, still gazing at the door. “If we add the digits, we’d get shifts of seven, five, nine, and six. Separate keys make more sense.”

Leah nodded. “That assumes they wanted a reasonable adjustment.”

Jamie pulled a notepad and a pen from a vest pocket. “I won’t know until I work it out. This could take a while. I’ve got the theory down, but that doesn’t speed up decryption.”

“It won’t take a while.” Leah shook her head. “We’ve got better things to do than sit here while you’re playing math games, and the RP can do this for us.”

Jamie laughed. “Good call, Major. I got into the challenge. Let the boys and girls at Camp Legacy have the fun.”

She smiled. “Emily, send your pictures to the Intelligence Platoon and explain the lieutenant’s suggestions. Tell them they have ten minutes, and when they have anything that looks like valid plaintext in a recognizable language, send it to us. No machine translation. We need the nuances, and Jamie’s the most qualified person in the unit when it comes to ancient languages.”

“How do you know it’s in an ancient language?” Emily asked.

“Because I have a feeling this is leftover BCCS garbage, and we’ve seen how they set things up. If it’s not, it won’t require special translation. Get to it. Ten minutes.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Five minutes later, Emily waved her phone with a huge smile. “They figured it out. They’re routing it to Lieutenant Carter now. His second idea was the right keys. The first set of keys produced garbage. The second produced intelligible Latin.”

Jamie grinned, proud of his triumph. He’d missed the intellectual stimulation that accompanied his job in the Army. His work for Legacy Operations Command was letting him use the skills he’d learned during his career in ways and combinations he would never have expected.

“I’m glad he figured out his mistake before it slowed us down.” Leah frowned. “Now, what can we do with the information?”

Jamie’s phone beeped, and Latin phrases filled the screen. He scanned the text with a smile. “These make far more sense than the crap from before.”

“Will it really be that easy?” Benson asked, eyeing the door.

“You didn’t sound like you thought it was easy earlier,” Leah commented.

Benson chuckled. “You got me there, Major. Does this mean somebody else could have figured it out with a little time and effort?”

“Easy is relative, and Sposato’s team could have figured it out if they tried,” Leah agreed. “I suspect, based on what you’ve told us about him, that he cared more about digging for treasure and glory than thinking things through. Not decoding the message might have heightened the drama he sought.”

Benson shrugged. “That’s very Sposato. What about the soldiers during the battle? Wouldn’t they have seen it and figured it out?”

“Remember that when they created this place, those ciphers were cutting-edge cryptography.” She gestured around. “Even today, to figure it out, we had to understand it was a cipher and what the numbers corresponded to, then have someone fluent in Latin read it. Machine translations can change subtle meanings. Expecting that from the average soldier who stumbled onto this redoubt back in the 1700s is a tall order.”

“It’s weird to think someone built something special under the noses of two huge armies during a siege,” Benson said. “If this is a BCCS project, doesn’t that mean they built it?”

Leah gestured at the stone door. “My working theory is that it’s BCCS, but it might not be. The UPDO could be from the emotions invested into this area because of the battle.”

Jamie reread the text and shook his head. “No, it’s BCCS. I’d stake my next promotion on that.”

Leah’s jaw tightened. “Don’t tell me they bragged about themselves in their encrypted message? That feels like something Drake’s ancestors would have done.”

“The rage of the defeated will fester in this place,” Jamie translated, using a Mid-Atlantic accent.

Leah smirked. “Why are you doing that accent?”

“I wanted to get that full George Drake experience across.” Jamie winked.

She pointed at the door. “Continue the translation with no accent, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jamie cleared his throat. “The rage of the defeated will fester in this place. Traitors will be punished. Only those with noble spirits will advance. God save the King.”

Leah stared at the third sentence. It was just random letters from where she stood. “The phrase ‘noble spirit’ doesn’t confirm that this is BCCS, but we should presume their involvement. George Drake could have picked those words to represent UPDO resistance because of places like this, or it might have been their pass phrase in the eighteenth century.”

Emily shifted position and squatted to get pictures of the door from a different angle. “It could be a coincidence.”

“Anything’s possible,” Leah replied. “In UPDO incidents, I proceed with what’s most likely, not what’s possible. We’ll assume this is a BCCS facility, and they might send agents to reclaim it. I’m glad I brought the squad.”

Emily darted around, squatting and standing to get different angles. “There are no royal symbols, but those would have stood out too much. That might be why they didn’t use them.”

“As opposed to this?” Jamie asked, gesturing to the half-buried stone wall and the door. “Benson’s right about how crazy this is. Unless…”

“Unless what?” Leah asked.

“What if that was the point?” Jamie replied. “What if they knew the British would lose, so they took advantage of that? They stored a guy as a mummy back then, and they had working alchemy. That supports them having a good understanding of UPDOs and related UPDPs even then.”

Leah nodded. “I agree. I’d argue that the mummy alone proves Drake’s ancestors had a good handle on all that.”

Benson patted his backpack. “If we think it’s BCCS, should we be pussyfooting around, worried about damaging the site?”

Emily grimaced. “Even if evil people built it, it has historical importance. Given its place in secret history, it has more value, not less.”

“There could be a gremlin mummy with petrification breath waking up in there,” Benson replied. “We should blast our way in and contain or blow it up. We don’t have to destroy the whole place, Doc, but we can’t let a monster run free.”

Jamie laughed. “’A gremlin mummy with petrification breath?’”

“A Medusa mummy with petrifying eyes?”

“Why would she need to be mummified?” Jamie asked.

Emily squinted at the door. “I protest at the idea of using explosives. If there’s a gremlin mummy, does that mean there’s a mummified wrench? How would that work?”

Benson shrugged. “I’m saying we blow our way in because there’s something dangerous in there, and right now, it’s only killed one person.” He pointed at the door. “Sposato’s crew dug out the door, but it wouldn’t open for them. That means something is blocking it. That leaves us with one easy way inside. Why complicate things when there are simple solutions?”

Leah frowned at the door. “I understand your concerns, Sergeant, but we could use a jackhammer or other tools. Using explosives on such an old structure brings its own risks, but we do need to get inside quickly. My primary concerns are our safety and containing the UPDO. I’m resistant to explosives because of the risk to the team, not the site. I’m sorry.”

Emily sighed. “I understand.”

“We could use a small charge, Major,” Benson suggested. “Do we want to waste time driving back to the trucks and then back to the town to source power tools?” He gestured around the clearing. “Nowhere to land a chopper, so it’s not as simple as calling the base. You can have them drive here, but we’ll sit on our asses for an hour, and then we’d have to drive back to the road to get them unless they come with a bunch of other vehicles to get through the forest.”

He spread his arms. “This is getting complicated.”

Jamie stared at the first encrypted sentence, thinking about the translation. The rage of the defeated will fester in this place.

“The BCCS knows about Legacy Operations Command,” Jamie noted.

“Yes.” Leah frowned. “What about it? I assume they’ll come. Other than maintaining awareness, it doesn’t affect our mission.”

“The shell company that owns this land is suspicious,” Jamie continued. “What if this is a trap to get us to open it for the BCCS? That could explain why they haven’t come already and why they used Sposato.”

Leah shook her head. “Someone was cut down with a crowd of witnesses nearby, yet nobody saw anything but the red gremlin. Whatever this is, there’s an active threat killing people. That takes precedence over worrying about the BCCS showing up.” She circled her finger in the air. “Our main advantage is that the UPDO’s range of influence appears to be limited. The effects extend a hundred yards from this clearing, but we saw the red gremlin farther out than that, and Sposato mentioned something similar. That implies its effects are growing.”

Jamie turned to the door. They had to be careful. Leah understood that, but she’d place her safety second to leaving a dangerous UPDO in place.

“The task force’s notes are inconclusive,” Leah said, “but since we took over the responsibility for the mission, we’ve yet to encounter a UPDP that couldn’t be tied and contained to an object. This comes back to the same issue as the gremlin. There’s a UPDO past that door. We secure that object, and we end the local threat.”

“What if the UPDO is the whole damned structure, Major?” Benson asked. “Walls and all?”

“Then we’ll revisit your demolition strategy at a far grander scale.”

Emily bit her lip and returned to taking pictures.

Leah motioned Benson toward the ladder. “We need a recon sweep of the interior first, and I want to be sure we can close the door in case of trouble. That requires us to figure out how to get inside without destroying or destabilizing the entire structure.”

Jamie looked around. Several tools lay in the pit, including shovels and pickaxes. The heavier construction vehicles were parked above the pit in the clearing, but the digging crew had created ramps. They could drive the backhoe into the pit and try. They wouldn’t even need to bring hunters from Camp Legacy. Benson could drive the backhoe. The ancient door couldn’t be that strong.

He discarded the plan. Knocking the door down with a mini-backhoe wouldn’t accomplish anything C4 couldn’t. Benson could be more precise with his explosives than with the backhoe.

Leah stared at the door.

“Do you have a plan to get in there nondestructively, Major?” Jamie asked. “Otherwise, I’m in support of limited demolition charges.”

Benson’s face lit up. He smiled at Jamie.

“I do have a plan. Sergeant, maintain your position above the pit.”

He chuckled. “The toys can wait.”

Leah climbed down the ladder. “George Drake’s predecessors gave us an answer that doesn’t involve explosives.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Leah walked over and braced her hands against the door. Cold seeped through her gloves and into her fingers. A stone door exposed to near-freezing temperatures for weeks might as well be a block of ice, but the temperature shift passed through her insulated gloves too quickly.

She took a deep breath. “Here we go.”

Benson eyed the door. “Major, they tried pushing.”

“We should push together,” Jamie suggested. “Or are you hoping they loosened it? I didn’t push when I touched the door, but if it was that easy, Sposato would have opened it.”

Leah grunted and shoved. She stumbled forward when the door opened into a cramped earth and stone entrance chamber. A dust cloud puffed out, and the sunlight illuminated the dense, swirling particles. She coughed and waved dust out of her face. Her eyes widened when she spotted a cannon barrel.

“Look out, Major!” Jamie shouted.

She held up her hand to quiet him. “Look closer.”

Jamie frowned. “That’s misleading.”

The corroded barrel lay on the ground. The gun carriage had long since collapsed into a heap of rusted spokes and rotted splinters. Even if supernatural abilities allowed the weapon to fire, the ball would only hit the wall.

Benson clapped. “Damn, Major. Have you been hitting the gym and drinking protein drinks?”

Leah shook her head. “The early BCCS gave us the clue.”

“Of course!” Emily pushed past Leah to take pictures of the cannon. “’Only those with noble spirits will advance.’”

Leah grabbed Emily’s shoulder and pulled her back. “I suspected the message was communicating that the door was sealed through nontraditional means. I don’t know if somebody was supposed to dig it up sooner, or they assumed their descendants would find it.”

She wrinkled her nose at the musty, fetid interior, not unexpected after centuries of burial. She swept the front room, her gaze stopping on shallow boot prints near the single passage leading out. The low ceiling challenged Jamie and Benson. The front chamber connected with a sloping, narrow passage that split into two curving paths a few yards ahead.

Jamie frowned. “We’ve got inconvertible proof that this redoubt didn’t become special by accident.”

“Not exactly.” Leah reached into a side pocket of her backpack and retrieved a headlamp. She slipped it over her helmet and turned it on. Dust swirled in the beam.

“You don’t agree?” Jamie asked, surprised.

“We proved that the door message was created by someone with UPDO knowledge, but the redoubt might not have had power at first.” Leah frowned at the cannon. “The point could be to fuel whatever we and Sposato saw in the woods.”

Emily continued taking pictures behind Leah. “Are you saying this place is a battery, Major?”

Leah nodded. “That’s one of my theories. We’ve been wondering why the BCCS wasn’t here already. If we presume it’s behind American Historical Forests, they might never have intended to come because they didn’t need to.”

“It’s not a trap, then,” Jamie said.

“It’s not a trap for us,” Leah replied. “I could be a trap for this county and the nearby towns. If the UPDO was set up to absorb the feelings and emotions related to the battle, we could view this as them creating a bomb with an extremely long timer. They needed someone to activate it, but they can’t control it like the mummy.”

Jamie grimaced. “At least we know we didn’t waste our time by showing up. If your theory is right, Major, the BCCS waited for resistant people to open the door rather than send their own people.”

Emily moved to a corner and knelt to take a picture. “A recruiting and test tool?”

“They’d have to be nearby.” Jamie shrugged. “I have a hard time accepting that.”

“What if the red gremlin is their agent?” Emily asked. Her innocent tone belied the sinister implications.

Leah had assumed the red gremlin was related to the UPDO. A byproduct of the target, not an enemy agent. “It changes nothing. We’ve got a full squad watching the area, and I’ll bring more hunters in if necessary. I’ve assumed hostile contact from the beginning.” She eyed the stone door. “We’ve been doing this long enough and dealt with the BCCS often enough to verify something important.”

“What?” Jamie asked.

Leah smiled, the conclusion filling her with hope. “The BCCS wouldn’t worry about finding old artifacts if they could easily make new ones.”

Jamie put on his headlamp. “That’s true, but their ancestors knew how to create or set up the conditions that led to the creation of UPDOs, so, with enough items and time, they could recover that knowledge.”

“We’ll weaken them until it doesn’t matter.” Leah walked around the edge of the chamber. “Every UPDO we get before them makes us stronger while they grow weaker. Whatever they knew in the past, they couldn’t mass product these objects. That’s obvious. Otherwise, history would have unfolded differently.”

Jamie snickered. “Maybe it did, and a task force member got his hands on a time-travel UPDO and fixed the dystopia.”

“Then I salute his efforts and applaud those who died in that alternative timeline.”

Emily knelt to take pictures of the boot prints. “This is amazing. These have been here for centuries.”

“Are we sure about that?” Leah asked.

“Without air flow, there’s no reason for them to get covered.” She sighed. “It’s a shame we’ll stomp all over them.”

“Isolating and retrieving the UPDO takes precedence,” Leah stated. “But take your pictures first.”

Emily gasped and looked back and forth. “Major, there are boot prints inside, but none leading out.”

Leah grimaced. “You’re saying they buried men alive?”

“All I can say is what I see. We’re lucky these are here.”

Jamie considered the prints and the red shadow. “The BCCS doesn’t have the US government’s resources, and they don’t have our moral restrictions. They could be running experiments to figure out how to make more.”

“You think this is part of that?” Leah shot him a doubtful look.

“We don’t want to ignore any possibilities. Burying men alive after a battle they lost is a good way to have them feel extreme emotions.”

“Wouldn’t somebody notice?” Emily asked.

“It depends on how they did it,” Jamie countered.

Benson called, “You all okay in there? I can’t see you from this angle, and your voices are muffled.”

“We’re fine, Sergeant,” Leah shouted. “What’s the situation out there?”

“All quiet on the cold and haunted front, Major.”

“Good to hear.”

Leah ran her hand over the dirt walls. She didn’t feel the numbing chill the front door produced. “The intelligence is adding up. The BCCS is short on personnel, though they have collected a large number of UPDOs. They aren’t above terrorism and murder. Arguably, that’s their main goal. This site is somehow related to them.”

Leah peered down the passage. “Sergeant Benson, please guard the front door from the outside in case this is a trap. Stay close to it.”

Benson scampered down, headed over to the door, and peered through. “It’s a glorified cave. I’ve seen enough of those in my career to last me until I’m a ghost.”

“Then you won’t mind guarding it,” Leah remarked.

He patted his rifle. “What if someone shows up who isn’t BCCS?”

“Detain them for questioning.”

Benson laughed. “Under the authority of the Department of Interior and the EPA?”

“Yes.” Leah frowned, worried about leaving a squad member alone in the chill zone. She turned on her radio. “Radio check.”

“Five by five,” Benson replied.

“Call if you see anything. Call the squad in if necessary.” Leah turned to Jamie. “Take point.”

Jamie drew his pistol. “We really need silver bullets.”

“The gremlin didn’t require them.” Leah motioned to the passage. “We also have no idea if silver bullets would be effective.”

“People believe silver bullets stop supernatural creatures,” Jamie countered. “Given what we know about how UPDOs work, shouldn’t silver bullets kill them?”

“Maybe.” Leah looked around. “Given the difficulties and expense involved in producing silver-coated bullets, I don’t know if it’s worth it. What you’re describing is far more likely to lead to an UPDO silver bullet with special abilities than any silver bullet useful against UPDOs.”

“I didn’t think about it that way.” Jamie crept forward with his pistol at the ready.

Leah drew her pistol and followed. It made sense to use the smaller weapon in these tight quarters. Emily lagged a couple of yards behind and took pictures every few feet. They approached the curving tunnels at the end of the passage. The curves prevented the team from seeing very far into them.

Emily looked confused. “This is a nonstandard design.” She tried to push in front of Jamie.

Leah cut her off. “Stay in formation, Emily.” She used command tone.

“Right.” Emily stepped back. “Sorry, Major.”

“I know you’re excited, but we don’t know what’s down there.”

Jamie grunted as he bumped his head. “I don’t know if the helmet is protecting me or making it worse. Why can’t we find a bunker built for six-five warriors or a team of basketball-playing giants?”

“It’s not technically a bunker,” Emily explained. “Redoubts are a different type of defensive structure. Except…” She frowned. “That’s weird.” She gestured at the ground. “I noticed a slope, but this is severe. Too severe.” She gestured at the curving passages. “Those slope down at an acute angle, too.”

Leah looked around. “What does that imply?”

Emily squatted to take a picture of a handprint on the wall. “A heavily fortified underground defensive structure is closer to a bunker than a redoubt.” She tapped her chin. “I can see how the top part got buried over the centuries, but given the weaponry of the period, it makes no sense for the British or Hessians to build a fortification like this. It took a lot of effort for little return.”

“It would be worth it if the BCCS or proto-BCCS used the battle as a cover,” Jamie replied. “We should assume they used a combination of UPDOs to build this or at least enhance it, so they had control or influence over enough people at the battle to put this together without their high command asking questions.”

“Are we sure they weren’t the high command?” Leah asked.

Jamie shrugged. “We can only go by what George Drake said, but if General Cornwallis had access to supernatural weapons or troops, he would have used them on the Continental Army and the French rather than surrendering.”

“True.” Emily shook her head. “This being more a bunker than a redoubt still bothers me. It’s not right.”

“I appreciate your interest in its history, Emily,” Leah began, “but I don’t care if it’s a bunker or redoubt except insofar as it influences the risk factor.” She looked around. “When I touched the door, it felt colder, but otherwise, I feel the same pervasive chill as before. It’s nowhere near as bad as what the workers reported.”

Jamie pointed down each passage in succession. “We won’t know what’s going on in here until we explore the whole place.”

“The writing on that door doesn’t fill me with confidence,” Leah admitted. “That, combined with the death, points to an anti-personnel UPDO.”

“Are we sure it’s not another mummy?” Jamie asked. “The barrier candles prove that some UPDOs aren’t unique.”

“Based on what we know, they were created simultaneously.” Leah shook her head. “Besides, this death involved a different killing method.”

Jamie grinned. “What about a bunker filled with gremlin eggs?”

Leah grimaced. “That’d be annoying, but we know how to deal with those.” She pointed down a passage. “You’re right. We need to establish how big this place is.” She turned to Emily. “We’ll use standard protocols. Coordinate with the IP and the RP as you see fit. Pass our data and intel to them regularly.”

“Of course.” Emily crouched and gasped. “Could this be the murder weapon?”

She took a picture. The flash revealed a rusty bayonet with half the body missing, eaten by time and oxidation.

Leah knelt by the bayonet and poked it with her gloved finger. “I don’t feel anything, and more importantly, there’s no blood on it. We’ll leave it here for now, just in case.” She pointed at the wall. “Mark it. I don’t want to move anything until we have a better feel for this place.”

Emily reached into a pocket and pulled out a small yellow reflector with a pointed metal shaft. She shoved into the ground near the bayonet.

“We’ll go left first.” Leah pointed. “Stay together and stay alert.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The passage straightened and leveled out after a couple of minutes of walking. Bits of rusty metal lay on the ground, including more bayonets and pieces of muskets. Emily marked each with glee. Jamie admired her enthusiasm.

Halfway through the passage, they found an alcove with seats carved into the walls. They weren’t big enough for Jamie to sit on, his height working against him. There was half a cannonball on the ground.

“Let’s stop for a moment.” Leah peered back into the darkness, the curve hiding their starting point. “We must have walked over a hundred yards.”

“I agree,” Jamie replied.

He’d been on edge since they entered. Dark, narrow passages were perfect spots for ambushes.

“Can you sense any difference in the chill?” Leah asked.

Jamie thought that over. “I still feel it, but it’s hard to say.”

“I don’t know if it feels different,” Emily offered, kneeling by the cannonball with the camera. “It’s been chilly from the beginning. Given how far we’ve traveled, I’d expect the soil temperature to be warmer this deep.”

“The UPDO’s chill zone is keeping it cold.”

Emily nodded. “That means the effect extends in all directions, including up and down, and since we’re still feeling it, it extends farther down than it does up and out.”

“It wasn’t like we went into the air to check,” Jamie noted. “The drones wouldn’t be able to tell, based on your test with the temperature gun.”

Leah looked over her shoulder. “It might not extend farther in one direction, but the source was far lower from the beginning. Say, a half-mile down with a half-mile plus a one-hundred-yard range.”

Jamie frowned. Like Leah, he hadn’t paid attention to Emily’s complaints before, thinking that the researcher was obsessed with minor historical details.

He now understood her concern. This redoubt wasn’t a slapdash defensive structure to fend off cannonballs. It was a large underground bunker that could have provided protection against modern explosive artillery. The implications worried him. “We haven’t found any uniforms or bones. Should we be surprised? I’m curious if the UPDO is preserving certain things versus others.”

“No,” Emily answered. “Smell the air. It’s not that dry.” She poked the ceiling. “I’m amazed the entire structure hasn’t collapsed from shifts in the soil above. Given the moisture level, I’m not surprised that only a portion of the metal has survived.”

Jamie holstered his pistol and knelt to pat a cannon ball. “I get what you were talking about. The short ceilings and low slope hide it, but we’re not just below the surface. We’re deep underground.”

“Exactly!” Emily circled the cannon balls, taking photos. “Nothing about this structure makes sense for defense against the Continental Army and their allies. It’s what you’d expect from a World War I bunker rather than something from the Revolutionary War.”

Leah scoffed. “If the Continental Army had anything powerful enough to require this bunker, we would have inherited it at Legacy Operations Command, or been told about it.”

“If we’re this far underground, it might affect comms.” Jamie tapped his radio. “Benson, can you hear us?” He frowned and looked at Leah.

She adjusted her radio’s settings. “Sergeant Benson, this is Major Morgan, report.”

“That proves we’re deep.” Jamie looked around. “These long passages don’t have rooms other than this alcove. It doesn’t make sense. Why make this so long? Was it to ambush people who found it?”

“It’s no colder than before,” Leah noted, looking over her shoulder. “So we’re not much closer to or farther from the UPDO.” She knelt and ran her hand over the rusted cannonball before leaning close to inspect the wall seat. “They could have hidden it anywhere in here.”

Emily stepped out of the alcove and shook her head. “I don’t think we should assume there’s a linear relationship between UPDO side effects and distance. This one has a range, based on what the other hunters reported, but there’s much we don’t understand about these objects.”

Jamie bumped his head and pulled off his helmet to rub his skull. “Or we circle back to this entire place being the UPDO. That would explain the weird design.”

“It’s not impossible,” Emily agreed. “Studying this site might help us understand UPDO fundamentals.”

“The question is, how do we neutralize the entire location?” Leah asked.

“Don’t we want to preserve it for a while?” Emily asked.

Leah shook her head. “If this entire site is a UPDO, we have to move or neutralize it soon. Yorktown might be tiny, but the other cities in the area aren’t, and it’s not like we can ignore the threat to Yorktown. We can’t risk the effects of this place getting out of hand, and either blind luck or an active conspiracy kept the nearby people safe so far. That’s a disturbing thought.”

“Simple solution: airstrike,” Jamie offered. “Or heavy arty.”

“That’s what I’m worried about. It’ll be hard to cover that up.” Leah smiled at him. “You sound like Benson.”

Emily sighed. “We’re passing up a chance to learn more about these objects. That would be useful in the long term.”

Jamie shook his head. “The major joked about it earlier, but even if we wanted to preserve the site, it’s not like we can scoop it out wholesale and transport it to the LTSW. It’s too much work for not enough payoff.” He frowned. “We could play up the chemical leak angle. That’d keep people away while we examine it.”

Leah shook her head. “That works for keeping people away now. If we stress it, it’ll draw more attention. Some idiot will show up with sampling equipment and spread rumors online. We don’t know if this place is the UPDO or if it contains a UPDO. There’s no point worrying about what we’ll do until we establish that. This could be as simple as taking that rusty bayonet out of here.”

“What’s the plan, then?” Jamie asked. “All we’ve established is that we can still feel the chill. We’re no closer to figuring this out.”

Leah pointed down the passage. “Keep going for now, assuming this place doesn’t go on for miles.”

“What about our comms problem?” Jamie asked.

“We’re not so far away we wouldn’t hear gunshots, and Benson has the squad to back him up.”

The passage turned back, suggesting they’d link up with the other path. When that happened, Jamie wasn’t surprised to find another alcove, this one empty. After allowing Emily a few minutes to take pictures, they continued walking.

Jamie’s initial theory was proving correct. Halfway through the second passage, they located a third alcove. This one also lacked the seats of the first and had no artifacts.

The passage swept back around until they returned to the front chamber. Jamie sweated on the long trip back. Walking through the bunker in full gear was better exercise than sprinting up and down stairs.

The layout was simple: an elongated oval path connecting three alcoves. All three were halfway through the straight sections of their passages. The team spotted more metal bits on their way back to the front, but the chill didn’t increase, and the squad didn't feel any unease.

Jamie had hoped they’d find something obvious at the far end. He doubted the entire bunker was a UPDO, but they would bomb it if it came down to that.

This recon was about determining the layout rather than uncovering every detail. The recent mummy mission had highlighted how a dangerous UPDO could be hidden with false doors and obscure clues.

Jamie put up a hand as natural light cut through the darkness. He squinted at the man silhouetted by bright sunlight in front of the entrance chamber. “Sergeant Benson, are you still alive?”

“No red gremlin surprises, Lieutenant. I’m not a ghost yet. You guys find anything interesting?”

“Tons! There are multiple well-preserved cannonballs,” Emily continued excitedly. “Flint and musket remnants too, all without excavation. There might be better-preserved artifacts if we dug or checked with a metal detector.”

“Didn’t Sposato report that their metal detectors didn’t work?” Jamie asked.

“They reported getting false positives,” Emily replied, “but that was outside, not inside the bunker. The interference could be different.”

Leah stepped out. “There was no obvious UPDO inside, but the way they built this place makes it feel like they’re hiding something and rubbing our faces in it. We’ll have to do an intense search with blacklights on our next sweep. We will bring a metal detector, too. Emily’s right. It might work.”

Jamie waited until the doctor stepped into the pit to exit the chamber, then tugged on the door to close it, leaving a slight crack. “What about bringing in sensor equipment other than the metal detector?”

Leah shook her head. “I don't see the point until we confirm the metal detector works. Our equipment might not function any better than the TV crew’s. I don’t want to waste time bringing in a bunch of gear, if that’s the case.” She nodded apologetically at Emily. “We’re not here on an archaeological dig. We’re here to find the UPDO and contain the threat.”

“At least you’ll let me bring a metal detector,” Emily replied, her smile remaining.

Benson groaned. “Will we have to crawl around looking for uranium glass?”

“Not necessarily, but I believe there’s something hidden in there,” Leah insisted. “We just have to find it. Nobody would have gone through the trouble to dig that bunker out, even with UPDOs, in such a specific way without a reason. We need to establish a better perimeter before we search the place with blacklights and metal detectors.” She pointed at Benson. “I want all four of us together for the next inspection.”

Jamie nodded. “You want Obi’s squad to set up on site?”

Leah shook her head. “I want them to stay outside the effect radius unless we require direct tactical support. For all we know, the UPDO takes over non-resistant people’s minds and makes them attack other people.”

Emily raised her hand. “I don’t want to disturb anyone, but if that red shadow we saw earlier is from the UPDO, its influence has already extended past the chill zone.”

Jamie frowned. Emily had voiced his unspoken thought.

“That’s accurate,” Leah said. “Which is why we need to figure this out and won’t worry about preservation. The TV crew and the workers didn’t report any erratic behavior or exposure symptoms, and they were on site for weeks, so we have a chance to contain this. Wandering around in the dark underground gave me an idea.”

“What’s that, Major?” Jamie asked.

“I didn’t key in on it when we reviewed the police reports,” Leah said. “They mentioned commuting to and from the site, starting at dawn and leaving before sunset. In other words, until the night of the murder, nobody slept here.”

Benson chuckled. “Monsters don’t like sunlight.”

Leah frowned. “Nobody said anything about monsters.”

“Sure, but we’ve fought monsters a few times, and whatever this thing is, it’s scarier than a gremlin. The gremlin couldn’t do much until it got its hands on a machine gun.” Benson shrugged. “We’re seeing mysterious shadows we can’t catch up with, and there’s a door with a clear threat.” He tapped the side of his head. “I don’t need my poker instincts to take the bet.”

“I bet it’ll come down to an object,” Leah mused. “It always has. Our squad will remain in the chill zone to test my theory. All non-resistant personnel will remain outside the zone unless needed for an engagement. They’ll maintain the perimeter to ensure Sposato doesn’t sneak back here with a camera.” She walked toward the ladder. “We’ll set up a base here. We’ll also set up our tents in case the current tents are under UPDO influence.”

Jamie and Benson didn’t look happy. Emily looked far too excited. Leah couldn’t always get a read for how she would react.

Leah nodded at Jamie. “Have someone from Legacy bring us portable showers. I don’t want to waste time traveling to and from the chill zone. Our cover will stay solid if we don’t give anyone a reason to question it. We’ll claim we’re bringing in more testing and analysis equipment.”

“What about food?” Emily asked.

“That’s easy.” Benson rubbed his stomach. “MREs for dinner. Yum!”

Emily wrinkled her nose. “I’m not looking forward to eating field rations.”

“They’re great, Doc! You’ll love them.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Leah nodded with satisfaction at her new command tent. They’d erected the tent right behind Sposato’s tent. In addition to a second tent for her squad nearby, four tents for Obi’s squad had been set up more than a hundred yards away. Their dark green material blended with the forest, and they were hard to make out from the excavation site.

She didn’t have to worry about lighting at the site. Sposato’s excavation crew had set up floodlights and light poles around the pit and clearing. Concerned about other surprises and wanting a clear border, she’d had her people set up light poles along the outer perimeter of the chill zone as well.

They’d set up separate tents for the women and men on the main site and at the perimeter camp. She’d limited the exposure of the non-resistant patrol in the chill zone to the time it took the affected hunters to carry in equipment.

Jamie craned his neck upward. A small drone whirred overhead.

“Any problems?” Leah asked.

Everything was going well, except for their inability to isolate the UPDO. Enemy agents would encounter far more resistance than William Barlow had in New Winter Creek. No mercenary force could ambush the camp, given their drone and satellite coverage. The supernatural threat worried her, the human threat less so.

Jamie shook his head. “We’ve launched the secondary drones. Remote uplinks are stable. The IP reports no interference with the drones within the chill zone or in the nearby forest.” He pointed to the pit. “They flew one right in front of the door, so we could have done that from the beginning.”

“That’s good to know, but protecting our equipment was wise.” Leah rubbed her shoulders.

She’d become accustomed to the chill seeping through her clothes and coat. She was impressed that Sposato and his crew had spent weeks on the site without resistance. That was a testament to their strength of will.

It was cold in and out of the chill zone, and the forest was dreary, dark, wet. They were camped next to a muddy pit. Her team didn’t need to dig. She would have preferred a frozen and thus less mucky environment.

Leah peered at the redoubt’s door. She hadn’t forgotten why they’d come to Yorktown. Something had killed a worker. Something had also led them around the forest, and she doubted it was a fox, a bird, or a BCCS agent playing games with UPDOs.

Benson waved to Jamie from beside a tent. The lieutenant headed that way.

Emily strolled along the pit's edge, her phone to her ear. “I understand. Yes. Thank you. I’ll inform her. Keep looking. Anything you find will be helpful until we identify and recover the UPDO.” She ended the call and jogged toward Leah. “The RP found something, Major.”

“What?” Leah asked. With luck, the team would only have to spend one night at the site.

“It took a little digging, but they confirmed the historical presence of a British redoubt at this location during the battle,” Emily explained. “It was harder to confirm than I anticipated, and there are no records of the redoubt being an unusual proto-bunker design. They did find a document in…” She sighed. “I’ll spare you the document chain and lower-level details. Suffice it to say, the RP had to dig through a bunch of university databases both here and in the UK, and from what they said, there was bad filing and inconsistent metadata beyond what you’d expect.”

Leah’s brows rose. “In other words, somebody was trying to hide the existence of this redoubt in historical records, yet they weren’t willing to go so far as to destroy the records. That means they wanted backups. It sounds like the BCCS to me.”

“We can’t prove that, but the evidence is suggestive.” Emily gestured at the pit. “We located a first-hand account from a British officer who claimed the redoubt was pulverized by Continental and French artillery to the point it was, in his words, ‘mangled and buried with no hope for recovery of the bodies of the poor souls within.’”

She frowned at the pit. “You’d know better than I do, Major, but this place seems in good shape for being destroyed.”

Leah nodded. “Minor damage to the top could have been concealed by dirt over the years, but I get what you’re saying. If it suffered that much damage, we’d see other indications. We didn’t see damage, and the interior had preserved footprints.”

Emily shrugged. “We could do soil testing, but I’m doubtful it’d turn anything up.”

Leah nodded. “Even if they weren’t expecting the unusual design, the top portion and the outer walls would have been blown up, and the footprints would have been covered by dirt knocked loose from the ceiling. I suspect you had it right earlier.” She frowned at the door. “The builders put people inside and did something with a UPDO to bury it, using the battle as cover. Did the RP find anything else?”

She wondered if the soldiers left inside were volunteers or sacrifices. George Drake’s behavior and attitude didn’t fill her with respect for his ancestors’ morality.

Emily frowned at her phone. “There are inconsistencies in the reports. The location and destruction of the redoubt was also referenced in the diary of a Continental Army officer who suggested the British were using it to store powder. He said…” She swiped her screen. “It produced, quote, ‘A mighty and awe-inspiring blast reminiscent of the ancient Jove punishing those who’d defied him with his lightning bolt.’ He talks about his regrets and asks God for forgiveness when the war ends.”

“That seals it. They made people think they’d destroyed the bunker. It doesn’t matter how. I'd bet it was an illusion combined with a soil-moving UPDO.” Leah walked to the edge of the pit. “Nobody would question an explosion during a siege involving artillery. Did they have the idea of building and hiding this place using the battle from the beginning, or did they change their plans over the course of the siege?”

“Cornwallis’ defeat was not surprising,” Emily mused. “Or not after the Continental and French troops began the siege. Given the naval blockade, it’s easy to argue that his defeat was obvious before the siege started.”

“They built a bunker, and they locked something inside so well that only UPDO-resistant people could get back inside if they found the place,” Leah noted. “I keep coming back to the same thought. Whoever built this place didn’t have to go to all that trouble if it was just about destroying or hiding something, so they planned to return and collect whatever was inside.” She shook her head. “I also don’t think the entire structure is the UPDO.”

Emily swiped her phone screen to bring up another report. “Unfortunately, nothing the RP turned up points to what is inside. They also found a few tales suggesting the forests near Yorktown were haunted, but there is no consistency to the rumors or alleged incidents. Most old forests near inhabited places pick up similar rumors. Before I joined the unit, I would have dismissed those out of hand.”

“I care far less about the rumors than that a specific man showed up and dug here.” Leah turned away from the pit. “We performed our initial recon and identified a UPDO in the area. The next step is chatting with Gerald Sposato and making sure he’s not BCCS.”

“Are you going to do that right away?” Emily asked.

“There’s no reason to wait,” Leah replied. “I’m going into town with the lieutenant.” She smiled. “I’m glad we brought civilian clothes.”

Emily looked away, uneasy. “There’s something else. It might be nothing, but I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t bring it up.”

“Go ahead.”

“Although the redoubt is from the Revolutionary War, there was a major siege nearby during the Civil War, too. The main fighting took place to the south and southeast, but thousands of Union troops and a smaller number of Confederate troops were buried in the Yorktown National Cemetery. I wasn’t sure if that was relevant because it’s hard to do anything in this part of the country without stumbling over places with deep historical ties.” Emily sighed.

Leah nodded. “I get it. If we had to research every historical event on the East Coast when we went on a mission, we’d spend a week in briefings before we could deploy.”

“Was I thorough enough with my initial background discussion?” Emily asked.

“Nobody died at the cemetery,” Leah replied. “They died digging this place up. That’s why we’re not investigating every random historical site in the US. We need a reason to think there’s a UPDO.” She looked at Jamie, who was chatting with Sergeant Benson near a tent. “At the same time, we don’t want to assume too much. Since I’ll interview Sposato, why don’t you and the sergeant check out the cemetery at the same time?”

“What are we looking for?” Emily asked.

“Any and all UPDO effects,” Leah replied. “You can never be too careful. This will be an undercover mission. It would be too difficult to close off the cemetery with our chemical story.”

“What if we run into trouble?” Emily asked.

“Easy. Run.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Jamie smiled politely at Gerald Sposato, who glared at him from behind a hotel room door. Jamie and Leah held up Department of the Interior badges.

Despite their pay and benefits coming through Interior, the unit rarely invoked the agency’s name in their work. On most missions, they claimed to be from the FBI or another federal law enforcement agency if they needed a cover story.

That was less complicated. Decades of novels and movies had conditioned people to expect FBI agents in suits to show up and investigate strange incidents. The average person would be happy the FBI was there to clean up the mess, but the average person wasn’t filming Gerald’s Secret Histories.

“Good evening, Mr. Sposato,” Leah greeted. “I’m Agent Morgan of the Department of the Interior. This is my partner, Agent Carter. We spoke on the phone about an interview.”

Gerald sighed. “Is this necessary? I wasted hours talking to the local cops. Can’t you read what they wrote?”

“We have our own interests and procedures,” Leah explained. “I’m sure you can understand that their focus differs from ours. You’ve dealt with our agency before.”

Jamie was impressed by how their acting skills had improved after a half year in the unit. Their easiest missions involved slipping into an area and finding the UPDO without interacting with locals. Ironically, their mummy mission had been like that until the BCCS interference. Their other missions had required cover, which involved pretending to be somebody other than the commander and the XO of a new secret paramilitary supernatural investigation unit.

Before the mission, Leah had mentioned her dislike of lying. Jamie compartmentalized his concerns by focusing on how their mission protected people and treating the acting part of the mission almost as a game.

“Does your agency go out of their way to hire people who are rules-obsessed?” Gerald groaned and motioned inside. “Take a seat on the couch over there. We might as well get this over with before I die of old age.” He trudged over to a chair in front of the couch and sat, his angry gaze shifting between Jamie and Leah.

Jamie surveyed the room. An open suitcase filled with clothes lay on the floor. A laptop sat on the desk. There were no visible weapons.

He didn’t feel anything unusual as he followed Leah to the couch. That didn’t prove a lack of UPDOs, but it was a good start.

Since Legacy Operations Command had defeated the BCCS in their last two confrontations, Drake and whoever else commanded the group might have decided to change their strategy to avoid fighting them. Despite Drake’s arrogance, his efforts toward covering the trail in official records demonstrated that he considered the government a threat.

Leah smiled. “This won’t take long, Mr. Sposato. We’re not officially investigating the death. That’s the FBI’s prerogative.”

Gerald rolled his eyes. “Then why are you wasting my time?”

Leah kept her smile. “We’re here to protect the site's cultural heritage and work with the EPA to make sure no one’s harmed by the dangerous substances we found. What happened to the worker was unfortunate, and we want to avoid other people getting sick or dying.”

Gerald folded his arms and scoffed. “Bullshit. We were there for weeks. You’re making up that toxic crap to steal that site from me.” He glared at her. “I’ll give you feds credit for developing a good story. What’s the problem? Is there too much attention because of the death for you to try to bury me with bureaucracy? That’s your standard MO.”

Jamie gave him a threatening look. “Show some respect. Like you just said, a man died there.”

Gerald shrugged. “Maybe it’s a good thing you don’t work for the FBI, Sherlock. The guy died from getting stabbed. Nobody’s claiming he died from a chemical leak except you geniuses.”

“The injury might have occurred because someone hallucinated due to gas leaks,” Leah clarified. “That’s the connection.”

Gerald shook his finger at her. “You think this is the first time I’ve danced with you Interior types? It doesn’t matter if you changed tactics. It all comes down to stalling honest, hard-working people like me.” He rolled his eyes. “You’re always making up rules and excuses. ‘You can’t dig in this field where nobody lives because of cultural heritage.’ Give me a damned break!”

Jamie’s mouth twitched. He wished they’d gone with an FBI cover. Sposato would have kept his disrespect to a minimum. “Your permits aren’t valid. You spent weeks illegally excavating that site.”

Gerald smirked. “Typical federal bureaucrats. Because I didn’t cross every I and dot every T, you’re acting like I’m a terrorist. Don’t you have something more important to do and someone more important to mess with?”

Leah smiled. “Interesting. Are you?”

“Am I what?” Gerald stared at her.

“Are you a terrorist?”

Jamie’s brows rose. He was surprised she was so straightforward, but he preferred this approach rather than letting the man rant.

Gerald laughed. “Weed is legal in Virginia, but you don’t have to smoke it on the job. I’m sure you guys have rules about that.”

“I’m serious, Mr. Sposato.” Leah’s smile disappeared and her stern commander face took over. “We have a dead body with no explanation.”

“You said you weren’t investigating that, and there is an explanation. He was stabbed. It’s not a mystery.”

“We don’t know who stabbed him or why. That’s the mystery.”

“That’s not your business. What does that have to do with cultural heritage?”

“I don’t think the FBI will mind if we pass along useful evidence.”

“I thought you were⁠—"

“We’ll ask the questions we need to ask.” Leah cut off his response with a glare and stood. “You don’t know me, so I’ll make this clear. My main concern is safeguarding the heritage and health of the citizens of this country. I don’t care if that makes your television career difficult.”

Gerald squinted at her. “You have delusions of grandeur.”

“It must drive you nuts, having to excavate at a site where the British got their asses kicked by American patriots,” Leah continued. “It must have pissed you off every day.”

Gerald shook his head. “Why would I care about the British getting their asses kicked?”

“They didn’t fight to the last man. They got trapped and surrendered to a ragtag rebel army and their worst European enemies. It wasn’t a glorious final battle. The motherland’s attempt to keep their colonies ended in a pathetic whimper.” Leah stomped over and glared down at Gerald. “What were you hoping to uncover? Proof that the Americans committed war crimes? Some other terrible tragedy to rewrite the history books to make General Cornwallis was the hero?”

“Do I sound like a damned Limey to you?” Gerald asked.

“People can think the wrong side won in a historical battle, regardless of their nationality.”

Gerald laughed. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, Agent Too Serious for Her Job. I don’t give two shits about history beyond how it helps my show. I don’t care who won that battle hundreds of years ago.” He slapped his chest. “I care about my ratings.”

He jabbed his finger at her. “I have footage for half a season and no footage for the best part, the freaking reveal. I’m tired of the government hijacking my sites, and if this is a vendetta because if you think I’m trying to rewrite history, you’re barking so far up the wrong tree, you’re on a different continent.”

Leah stopped glaring at him and sat back down. She nodded at Jamie.

He wasn’t sure what her strategy was. She’d told him to follow her lead on the way over but had not mentioned being so aggressive. Defaulting to good cop/bad cop seemed prudent.

Jamie cleared his throat and turned to Gerald. “We’re not here to hijack your site, Mister Sposato, but you don’t have a permit. That’s not something we can overlook.”

Gerald scoffed. “You’ll throw me in prison for digging a hole in a place I was told I could by the landowner? Come on. This isn’t the first time I’ve tangled with bureaucratic thugs.”

“The owner of the land, American Historical Forests?” Jamie asked, keeping up his smile.

Gerald nodded. “Exactly. You should be yelling at them, not me.”

“It’s not that simple.” Jamie shook his head. “First, owning the land doesn’t mean they’re exempt from or can exempt other people from federal regulations, and second, American Historical Forests is a shell company that doesn’t do any actual business. I wouldn’t be surprised if the FBI discovers they’re a Mafia front.”

He shrugged. “That kind of thing is out of our wheelhouse, but it does call your cooperation with them into question.”

“W-what?” Gerald blinked. He laughed. “Mafia. Ha-ha. Good joke, Agent Carter.”

“I’m not joking.” Jamie was still smiling.

“You’re not?”

“Nope.” Jamie clucked his tongue. “Somebody’s using you, Mister Sposato, though I bet you thought you were using them. Ratings? Fame? Glory? They’ll leave you holding the bag when this blows up.”

Gerald swallowed. “You’re seriously telling me organized crime is using me?”

“Organized crime?” Jamie shrugged. “Them, terrorists, or somebody else with ill intent, but somebody pointed you at that site and went out of their way to hide their identity.” He gestured at the window as if the culprits were hiding outside. “We’re not sure why. Maybe they dumped the chemicals onsite to exploit existing contamination. Maybe this is a sophisticated money-laundering scheme.”

Gerald shook his head. “You’re bluffing. That can’t be true.”

His gaze darted between Jamie and Leah. Their grave expressions underlined Jamie’s claims.

Jamie frowned at Gerald and slid anger into his tone. “We don’t like having historical sites savaged by criminals or terrorists. This isn’t about you, Mister Sposato.” He stood so fast that Gerald jerked backward. “We don’t care about you or what you will say on your show. Tell them the government shut you down to keep their secrets if you want, but your dig is over. We have reason to believe you’re involved in something dangerous, so we’re taking control.”

Gerald swallowed. “I didn’t know anything about organized crime or terrorists. I swear.” His eyes widened. “Did they whack that guy at the site? Was he a mobster? Was this all staged to kill him and cover it up?”

“We’ll let the FBI figure that out,” Leah replied after a glance at Jamie. “But you can help us help them. We need more information from you. Your previous statements mention contacts with representatives of American Historical Forests. We need a name since we can’t track down anybody real at that company. You told the police you dealt with different people, but they haven’t been able to find anyone.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You dealt with one person, didn’t you? Somebody you didn’t mention to the police because you were trying to maintain your connection for when the investigation blew over. We need to know who that was.”

Gerald rubbed the back of his neck. “I get it. I dealt with one guy on the phone, George. He was the only one I spoke to. He contacted us, so it’s his fault.”

Leah leaned forward, her eyes alight with interest. “Was his name George Drake?”

“Drake?” Gerald shook his head. “Nah. George Cornwallis.”

“Cornwallis?” Jamie chuckled. “A guy named Cornwallis wanted you to dig up a battlefield where General Cornwallis lost. You didn’t find that suspicious?”

“Yeah. I’m not an idiot. I now understand it was a fake name. I suspected that at the time, but I didn’t care as long as I got the rights to dig up the site for my show.” Gerald shrugged. “I’m not the government. I don’t have the resources to dig deep into shell companies and fronts. Why would I suspect he was anything more than an eccentric guy who wanted the land dug up? It’s not the first time I’ve run into that.”

“You didn’t find that too good to be true?”

“You know what they say.” Gerald smiled. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. I figured that Cornwallis guy was related to the general, and that was why he owned land here.”

Jamie couldn’t label the theory as ridiculous. The truth was stranger.

Leah frowned. “You didn’t verify it?”

“I just told you. I make reality TV.” Gerald scoffed. “I’m not the FBI, Treasury, or you people. It’s not my responsibility, and you can’t tell me I was supposed to know the guy might be attached to organized crime or whatever other crazy group you’re claiming.”

Leah nodded. “How about you do us a favor as a sign of good faith, Mr. Sposato? Please call George right now.”

“I’d love to. I’ve been trying since that worker croaked, but the number’s no longer good, or he’s not returning my calls.”

“Can you tell us the number? We need to pass that on to the FBI.”

Gerald pulled out his phone and repeated the phone number. “It just goes to an automated voice mail.”

Leah dialed the number. She tilted her head. “He’s right,” she told Jamie. “Automated voicemail with a woman’s voice.”

“What did he sound like?” Jamie asked.

“Cornwallis?” Gerald frowned. “He sounded rich. He didn’t sound like a mobster, if that’s what you’re getting at. He had this annoying fancy accent. Not British. It was something you’d hear in an old black-and-white movie.”

Jamie exchanged a knowing look with Leah. “It’s called a Mid-Atlantic accent. Thank you, Mr. Sposato. That’s helpful. We now have more reason to believe you’ve been in contact with a known terrorist.”

“You weren’t just saying that to mess with me?” Gerald sputtered. “We’ve gone from mobsters to terrorists?”

Jamie smiled. “We’ll have our people contact the FBI to have them contact you. They might have more questions, but we’ll make it clear that you cooperated. They might not contact you, given the information you provided.”

“Am I going to jail?”

“Don’t worry. It’s clear that you didn’t know what was going on, but you won’t be able to return to the site. We’ll ensure that your equipment is returned after the EPA and the FBI finish their investigations. As long as you cooperate, there’s no reason for you to get in any trouble.”

“I’ll do whatever I can. I’ll pack up my crew, and we’ll leave right away.” Gerald swallowed. “You promise you’ll take care of the gear on site?”

“We’ll handle all that,” Leah replied. “It would be useful if you left the area. We don’t want more attention to complicate the investigations. The FBI is handling the death investigation, so you don’t have to worry about the local authorities.”

“Fine. I’ll scram, but I’m taking you up on that idea about the government shutting down my dig.”

Jamie snickered. “I’m sure it’ll be your best season ever.”

Leah stood and offered her hand. “This has been illuminating, Mister Sposato. Thank you for your cooperation.”

Jamie and Leah climbed into their SUV to return to the forest. Leah frowned at the window.

“What was with your approach?” Jamie asked. “You all but told him about the BCCS.”

“The BCCS seek power, but they’re ideological at their core,” Leah replied. “George Drake made that clear. His agent in New Winter Creek did, too. I don’t believe a BCCS agent could sit straight-faced while I said all that. The BCCS knows who I am, and they want to show me and the unit up.”

“What if we’re not the only ones who can act?” Jamie asked.

Leah smiled. “The IP will monitor Sposato until our mission is complete. I doubt there are many Georges in America who speak with Mid-Atlantic accents and are interested in Revolutionary War battle sites. I’m also wondering why George Drake stopped taking his calls.”

Jamie started the SUV and pulled out of the parking spot. “You think Drake already got what he wanted?”

“The death might mean it’s too late,” Leah mused.

Jamie turned onto the road. “It can’t be that simple.”

“I don’t know, but George Drake is on the move, and the modern BCCS is directly linked to excavating that site. That means we have an increased risk of a dangerous UPDO and an attack by BCCS agents.” Leah loosened her tie. “We need to figure out what Gerald Sposato released in those woods.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

After they reached the forest, Leah and Jamie hopped on their ATVs and heading back to the site. That led to the comical sight of two people in black suits on ATVs rolling into camp.

To Leah’s surprise, Emily and Sergeant Benson were back. She’d expected them to take longer investigating the cemetery. Benson would have called if there were immediate threats, so maybe they’d been forced to retreat.

Benson and Emily were still in off-duty clothing, disguised as tourists, with large coats that hid their shoulder holsters. They sat at a folding table near the tents, thumbing through something on their phones. Their lack of tension didn’t suggest a BCCS strike team was coming.

Leah parked her ATV alongside Benson’s and Emily’s, shivering despite her coat. The chill zone wouldn’t let her forget about the UPDO. She hopped off and walked over to the table, rubbing her shoulders.

Benson looked up with a smile. “Have fun with Sposato? I like his shows, but I’m guessing spending time in the same room is annoying as hell.”

“He’s an arrogant blowhard, but he gave us what we needed.” Leah took a deep breath. “George Drake was holding his leash, but there’s no evidence that Gerald knew who he was dealing with.”

Benson’s mouth twitched. “Figures.”

She pointed at the pit. “The BCCS wanted this place dug up. Drake manipulated Sposato from the beginning. The fact that they haven’t shown their faces worries me.”

Emily sighed. “Then we’ll fight again?”

“There’s a good chance of that.” Leah looked toward one of the support squad’s tents. “As far as I know, the locals are leaving this up to us. Did Obi report anything new since you got back?”

Benson shook his head. “Same as ever, Major. All quiet on the haunted front.”

“I wish you’d stop saying it’s haunted,” Emily muttered. “It creeps me out.”

“Aren’t all UPDOs haunted, in a way?” Benson asked cheerfully.

“That’s a matter of perspective.”

Leah gestured at Emily’s phone. “Before we get too far ahead, I’m assuming that since you didn’t call me, nothing stood out at the cemetery?”

Emily nodded. “It’s a normal historical graveyard. I felt awe, as I do every time I visit a site like that, but nothing odd or unexpected. I was too warm and had to unbutton my coat compared to here. It was a change of pace.”

Benson nodded at Emily. “Doc’s right. There were busloads of foreign tourists, all doing photo ops. Nobody looked uncomfortable.” He snickered. “They were a little too happy, given that we were in a graveyard. I didn’t feel anything. We didn’t cover every square inch, but we walked all over. If there was a UPDO, it’s less obvious than here.”

Leah turned to Jamie. “Just in case, have the IP task a few drones in the area. Tell the local authorities we’re doing sensor sweeps with specialty drones for our archaeological and environmental evaluation. I don’t need or want more trouble, but I don’t want to get jumped from behind because I wasn’t watching a shadow that turned out to hold a tiger.”

Jamie nodded. “I’ll get it done, Major.”

“I’d love to go back for a longer visit, but we have a genuine archaeological site here to deal with, and that’ll satisfy me for now.” Emily smiled.

“Remember—” Leah began.

“Our priority is to find and neutralize the UPDO,” Emily interjected. “I know, Major. That doesn’t mean I can’t investigate the site at the same time.”

“Only having to worry about one site makes this easier. It doesn’t make it a walk in the park.” Leah turned to the pit and gazed at the door. “We don’t know what the point is. It all comes back to George Drake and whatever he wants. The IP should also chase the shell company. There has to be something in that bunker we’re not seeing.”

Benson groaned. “It’s time for tiny brushes and blacklights, isn’t it?”

Emily smiled. “We’re going artifact hunting.”

“We haven’t located the UPDO,” Leah agreed. “And there isn’t any evidence to suggest the entire bunker is the UPDO. If that were the case, there’d be little reason to seal it. That leads me to believe there is evidence inside the bunker we’ve yet to find. There’s only one way to find it, and only four people in the area are resistant to the UPDO’s effects.”

Benson shook his head. “Why can’t these things ever manifest at a beach in the summer? Why can’t it be a snorkel that causes illusions of hot beach babes?”

Leah ignored the sergeant’s humor. “I want a twenty-four-hour perimeter on this site. We need to be prepared for a mercenary force or UPDO-equipped BCCS agents. Drake initiated this dig, which means he has the advantage.”

“We should bring in at least two more squads, then,” Jamie suggested. “We can rotate them.”

“Agreed. Make it happen.” Leah pulled out her phone. “I’ll call Colonel Washington and make sure the higher-ups are covering our butts for an extended mission. We’ll double down on the chemical/toxic waste excuse. That’ll discourage the locals from getting curious and coming in when they hear Sposato is pulling out.”

She turned back to the pit. “We’ll wait until tomorrow morning to begin a low-level exploration of the bunker. It’s not long until sunset, and I’d prefer we had multiple squads watching the perimeter while we’re inside.”

Benson crouched by his backpack and pulled a blacklight out of a pocket. “When I retire, I’ll have more hours with this thing than my rifle.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Leah awoke to heavy, rhythmic footsteps. Emily gasped and jerked upright in her cot on the other side of the tent. They exchanged concerned looks.

Judging by the noise, there were hundreds of people outside. Leah threw off her heavy blanket and scrambled out of bed, already dressed and wearing her boots. She grabbed her coat, a walkie-talkie, and her pistol, concerned about an ambush.

Her mind raced. The BCCS couldn’t sneak that many people onto the site without the perimeter guards or the drones spotting and hearing them well in advance. Had she underestimated the BCCS’ resources? Had they snuck mercs into the area and surprised her squads? Given the IP surveillance, she couldn’t see that happening.

After helping the arriving reinforcements set up their tents outside the chill zone, Leah and Jamie had reviewed more footage and reports from Sposato and his crew. Leah had one of the reinforcement squads patrol near the site, and they didn’t encounter anything more dangerous than small wildlife. Sunset had come and gone without incident, and a few hours later, Leah had decided her team should turn in early so they could explore the bunker at the crack of dawn. She hadn’t expected a major attack.

Clever use of UPDOs could disable her drone support. The enemy didn’t even need UPDOs. Conventional jamming equipment could isolate the drones and the squads, and a quick, brutal assault could feed the chaos. She’d assumed they would be shielded by the dense forest.

Her heart pounding, she stepped toward the front of the tent, listening. The rhythmic footsteps continued, but no one yelled or screamed. No gunshots echoed among the trees. No silhouettes backlit by the flood lights moved past her tent.

Arming up and rushing out of the tent was fueled by pure instinct. Leah was opening the zipper when she realized a BCCS ambush involving a major force should produce at least some sounds of battle. An enemy couldn’t sneak up and slit people’s throats or shoot them in the back of the head by marching in lockstep, yet the sound was now louder and closer.

She looked at Emily. It couldn’t be a hallucination.

“Do you hear it?” Leah asked. “Do you hear a group of people marching together? The sound reminds me of a parade formation.”

Emily gave a shallow nod. “Y-yes. What’s going on?”

“I’m not sure. Get ready to run hard if necessary.” Leah motioned to Emily’s boots, which were sitting near her cot. She was still uncertain about threats. She couldn’t dismiss the idea this was related to the UPDO. “I know it’s uncomfortable, but this is why I suggested you might want to leave them on.”

Leah waited until Emily slipped her boots on to open the flaps. The sound stopped. She frowned and surveyed the area.

The floodlights illuminated the pit, just as they had before she turned in. Light poles near the tents kept the worst of the forest’s gloom at bay. She saw the lights from the perimeter squads and the outlines of their tents. There were no enemy mercenaries, agents, or gremlins in the area. There was no obvious source for the sound.

Benson and Jamie jogged toward her tent with concerned expressions, carrying their rifles. Like her, they’d thrown on coats but not full tactical gear. More proof that she wasn’t hallucinating.

Leah waited for them to arrive and put a finger to her mouth. Emily scratching and scrambling out of the tent was the only noise besides the muffled hoot of an owl.

Jamie went to the edge of the pit and looked around. “We all heard footsteps? A huge group?”

Benson yawned. “It was more like I felt them. Yeah, a big group marching in time like they were trying to impress a general.”

Emily emerged from the tent, her face pale. “It didn’t sound right.”

Leah turned to her. “What do you mean?”

“It sounded like a huge group of people marching.”

Leah nodded. “That was what it sounded like to us, too.”

“It sounded like what you’d hear on pavement,” Emily insisted. “They didn’t sound like people marching through the forest.”

Leah grabbed her walkie-talkie. “This is Legacy One. What’s the perimeter status?”

“This is Minuteman Six,” a bored-sounding hunter replied. “Nothing on the perimeter. Nothing to report since you turned in, Legacy One. Is there a problem?”

“Did you hear any movement over the last few minutes?”

“Negative, Legacy One. The only things we’ve heard or seen since nightfall are birds and one fox. The birds flew overhead but changed direction before they hit the chill zone. The fox stole a cracker from somebody’s MRE and ran. It also avoided the zone.”

Animals avoiding the chill zone was interesting new intelligence, and it confirmed what they had suspected. Leah frowned. “Legacy squad on this side of the perimeter heard large-scale human movement. It’s unknown whether it was a true physical phenomenon at this time. Maintain readiness.”

“Roger that.” The hunter now sounded more alert.

In her Army days, Leah would not have dreamed of reporting she’d heard something but wasn’t sure if it was real. It was just another day in Legacy Operations Command.

She checked her watch. “Go ahead and wake up the relief squad since it’s close to shift change. Everyone else can rest for now. Do not enter the affected zone without orders. No immediate tactical threat at this time.”

“Roger, Legacy One.”

Leah lowered the radio and looked at her squad. “It didn’t sound like a handful of guys creeping through the woods. Everyone heard a huge group in formation.”

Benson eyed the pit. “You know who marches in big groups in formation? British soldiers, or they did.”

Emily gasped. “It’s not a red gremlin or a shadow. It’s a Redcoat. That’s what people have been seeing.”

“That’s consistent with the location, but don’t jump to conclusions.” Leah surveyed the area. “Nobody from Sposato’s group reported hearing marching soldiers. This is a new phenomenon.”

Emily rubbed her hands together and shivered. “What if they didn’t hear anything because they didn’t wait long enough? The guy was killed before they all went to sleep.”

Benson lifted his rifle and frowned at the pit. “I hear you, Doc, but if you’re right, why didn’t the drones see anything?”

Jamie suggested, “This is a battlefield UPDO. It might be responding to having former soldiers nearby.”

Leah didn’t like how plausible that sounded. “I thought we’d have more time than this to figure it all out.”

Jamie checked his watch. “If it matters, it’s far later than the time of the murder.”

“Doesn’t make me feel better. It could be as Emily suggested; more time spent here causes more trouble. They evacuated the body fast, and according to their reports, the police didn’t search the site until the following day.” Leah went over to the pit and looked at the door. “The door hasn’t moved.”

Benson laughed. “All due respect, Major, are we sure whatever’s here cares about doors? We’re talking about ghost Redcoats.”

Leah’s stomach knotted. Sergeant Benson’s straightforward statement cut through her ability to compartmentalize the threat. “That is one theory.” She rubbed her hands together. They didn’t feel much colder without the gloves. “We all heard the marching. It’s not clear if that’s because we’re in the chill zone or our resistance let us.”

“Isn’t that backward?” Benson asked. “I thought the point of us being resistant was that these things affected us less, not more.”

Emily shook her head. “It’s not unprecedented.”

“She’s right,” Leah added. “During my first UPDO encounter, I heard something before the non-resistant people. We’re using the task force’s terminology and paradigm, but it doesn’t fit every situation.”

Jamie nodded. “That’s right. The drum.”

“Doesn’t that mean we’re not really resistant?” Benson asked. “We’re something else?”

“It might, and we’ll consider the implications in the future,” Leah replied. “For now, I only care about what we heard. All evidence points to UPDO activity unless a company-sized unit marched through the forest without the squad noticing. We need to confirm effects what the UPDO produces other than sonic hallucinations and bayonet wounds.”

Something buzzed and whirred overhead. Leah looked up and spotted one of their recon drones. She strode back into her tent, found her phone on the folding table, and sent an encrypted message. The response came within thirty seconds. “The IP detected nothing unusual in visual or infrared,” Leah announced. “We should have set up microphones on the ground.”

Emily stuck her hands in her pockets. “Do you think if somebody on Gerald Sposato’s crew was resistant, they would have heard the marching before the attack?”

Leah glanced at her pistol. Her squad had stayed within the chill zone because Sposato and his people had worked there for weeks without incident before the death, even if they hadn’t stayed the night. The team’s reduced vulnerability to UPDO effects had given her a false sense of security, but retreating without a clear threat would set a bad precedent. Risking her resistant personnel would set a worse one.

Benson slung the rifle over his shoulder, yawned, and pointed at the bunker door. “We could hit the site. We’re all awake. It’ll be dark and cold in there any time of day.”

“I’d rather not explore the site when we’re suffering group auditory hallucinations or the equivalent,” Leah replied. “We won’t be able to interpret what we see in there objectively.”

“I don’t think it’s a hallucination when we all heard it,” Emily stated. “I’d argue that we encountered real auditory phenomena.”

“The other squads didn’t hear it,” Benson noted.

Emily shrugged. “If somebody can’t hear certain frequencies for whatever reason, we don’t say the people who can hear them are hallucinating.”

Leah smiled. Her team was calm enough to question everything. “You’ve got me there, Emily. We don’t know the meaning of the sounds yet other than… Contact!”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Leah whipped her pistol up. Dozens of eyeless spectral Colonial-era British soldiers marched out of the woods toward the other side of the pit—an entire company. Shadows filled the empty sockets. The glowing translucent soldiers wore the familiar British red coats and carried muskets with bayonets. Their weapons were no more solid than the ghosts carrying them.

“There’s our confirmation of ghost Redcoats.” Jamie readied his rifle. “But I don’t hear anything. Why would they make a show of marching, then go into stealth mode?”

Benson unslung his rifle. “To screw with us?”

“We shouldn’t assume intentionality or intelligence,” Leah replied. “They could be the equivalent of UPDO programming. If that’s the case, we can use it against them.”

“I wish I had my camera.” Emily shook her head. She looked more intrigued than concerned. “I can’t believe I’m not documenting this.”

“Focus on the immediate situation, Emily,” Leah ordered. “These UPDPs could be dangerous, if not lethal.”

A ghost Redcoat drifted away from the formation and turned into a mist that flowed into the pit. Another ghost followed, then more. When the soldiers reached the pit’s edge, only six remained of the company, and thick fog concealed the pit. The remaining ghost Redcoats stopped at the edge.

Benson snickered. “Ghosts can’t walk on air. Poor bastards. They’re dead, and they still have to obey the rules.”

“What if it’s their consciousness telling them they can’t?” Emily replied. “A leftover from when they were alive. I wonder if we could train them to walk on air.”

“I’d rather we not train any dead British troops to do tricks,” Jamie suggested.

Leah frowned. “We’ll need more information to draw any conclusions about that effect. Also, we don’t know that they are ghosts.”

“Come on, Major.” Benson gestured at the soldiers. “See-through guys wearing clothes from hundreds of years ago? What else are they? Leprechauns?”

“The gremlin wasn’t independent,” Leah noted. “It was a product of the wrench. These could be epiphenomena rather than discrete entities. These might be the UPDO equivalent of holographic projections.”

“The gremlin laid eggs,” Benson challenged. “It doesn’t matter if something else made it. It could reproduce, so it was real. These ghosts are, too.”

She didn’t want to engage in a metaphysical debate. Once they’d established the threat level, they could figure out the academic details.

Leah frowned. “My point is, it doesn’t matter what they are or how we define them. It matters what they do, and we should not make assumptions about their abilities or fundamental nature based on terminology.” She nodded at the soldiers. “It’s hard to tell if they’re watching us when they don’t have eyes.”

She didn’t lower her weapon. The Boston mummy hadn’t displayed intelligence other than target selection. It had been like a supernatural drone rather than a person. The gremlin had been smart enough to taunt them, and it could use tools and weapons.

Leah wouldn’t assume the Redcoats were spirits, but if they were, maybe she could reason with them. She texted the IP for an update.

“The drones only see us,” Leah explained after they replied. “No wonder Sposato had no footage of anything useful or supernatural. Are these UPDPs somehow feeding off our presence?”

The remaining ghost soldiers spread out along the edge of the pit without making any noise.

“What’s the plan, Major?” Benson asked.

“We need more data.”

“How do we get that?”

“I’m Major Morgan,” Leah called. “I represent the American government. We’re willing to negotiate with you and hear your terms. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

The ghost soldiers pointed their muskets at Leah’s squad. She grabbed Emily’s arm and yanked her back toward a metal table and their generator. Sergeant Benson and Jamie moved at the same time.

The British muzzles flashed, and semi-translucent smoke filled the air. Musket balls struck the ground near Leah, knocking up dirt with pops. A round struck a generator with a loud ping, and dark smoke poured from the sparking machinery.

“They’ve graduated from bayonets,” Leah muttered.

The ghost soldiers leveled their muskets and opened the flash pans, then reached into their ammo pouches to pull out paper cartridges and bit them open.

Jamie and Benson shoved the heavy metal table onto its side. Everyone took cover behind it.

“They have to load,” Emily panted.

“Small blessings,” Leah agreed. “That won’t help if we can’t hurt them.”

“Fifteen to twenty seconds between shots, assuming they’re average for the period."

“Then we’re wasting time.”

Leah jumped up and opened fire. Jamie and Benson joined her. As Leah expected, their bullets passed through the soldiers. “We should watch our fire lines. We don’t want to hit one of our people with strays.”

“It’s not doing a damned bit of good anyway,” Jamie grumbled.

Leah’s walkie-talkie crackled to life. “Legacy One, what’s going on? We heard gunfire. No hostiles are engaging the perimeter. Are you engaging targets?”

“We are engaging hostile UPDP targets within the perimeter near the pit,” Leah radioed back.

“Copy that. Orders?”

“Hold position. Targets are ghostly humanoid Revolutionary War-era British soldiers. Targets are immune to conventional arms. Their physical musket balls represent a significant risk to materiel and personnel.”

“Roger, Legacy One.”

Leah appreciated the determination and lack of fear in the hunter’s voice. Most members of the infantry platoon had UPDO experience at this point. Still, few hunters outside her resistant squad had experienced the full range of threats, from mummies to gremlins.

The ghost soldiers’ second volley tore holes through Leah’s tent. A musket ball bounced off the table, leaving a dent visible from the other side. A scowling ghost soldier ran around the edge of the pit toward the table, holding his bayonet in front of him.

“Major!” Jamie shouted.

She aimed her pistol at the advancing ghost, making sure the bullet would hit the ground if the ghost didn’t stop it. All three of her shots passed through apparition without a reaction. “Pull back,” Leah ordered, motioning to a pair of thick trees behind her tent. Her frustration was building. Everything, no matter how strange, had a weakness.

The ghosts didn’t fire as Leah’s squad rushed toward the trees. Could ghosts hurt other ghosts? She tucked that away for future exploration.

Leah, Jamie, and Benson put a cloud of bullets through the charging ghost. No wounds appeared, though he stopped and stared at the squad from ten yards away.

“Do we have another plan?” Jamie asked, positioning himself in front of Emily and Leah.

“Barrier candles?” Emily suggested.

“They’re in the supply tent, and the ghosts are between it and us.”

The ghost turned his head back and forth. Jamie was right. Without eyes, it was hard to track the ghost’s current target.

The ghost’s mouth moved, but Leah heard the words in her mind rather than in the air. The accent sounded English, though different from what she heard in movies covering the period.

What are you women doing here? the ghost asked. Have your traitorous cur men sunk so low as to force you into such savagery? This is no place for the fairer sex. This is a battlefield.

Benson laughed. When Jamie glared at him, he shrugged. The sergeant’s reaction showed they all could hear the ghost.

Leah didn’t want to debate gender equality in the military with a man who’d been dead for over two hundred years. Her stomach twisted when she realized she’d accepted that the worried soldier was a ghost. She told everyone else not to jump to conclusions, yet she did.

The ghost soldier advanced, his mouth set in an angry grimace. Surrender, traitors. You’ll escape the hangman’s noose with an honorable surrender. Resist further, and you’ll die by musket ball or bayonet before you meet the gallows.

“Who are you?” Leah asked.

Your men will surrender, woman. You have no right to resist. The ghost inched forward, his musket held out with the bayonet ready to stab. Or I’ll put these rebels down like the rabid curs they are.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Jamie gritted his teeth. His combat experience and training wouldn’t count if he couldn’t shoot the target. Modern warfare and tactical doctrine relied on accepting certain facts, including that a bullet would hurt a human-shaped enemy. Armor, cover, positioning, and other factors could mitigate that, but doctrine fell apart when he had to confront the reality that his bullet would pass through an otherwise valid target. Even the damned gremlin had had the decency to die when they shot it.

He glanced at Leah. He’d follow her lead, but he wouldn’t let her become the final casualty of the Siege of Yorktown. He admired her attempt to negotiate with an angry British ghost. He doubted she’d succeed, though they’d at least learned the ghosts were far more intelligent than the mummy or the gremlin.

“Who are you?” Leah asked, her voice calm yet firm. “You’ve maintained awareness. That means we can talk. Why are you here? As I told you, I represent the American government. We can come to an arrangement concerning this area. We have no desire for anyone else to be hurt. If this concerns the crews digging here, they didn’t understand the danger.”

Enough, wench, the ghost snapped. You carry a weapon, albeit a strange one. Am I mistaken? Are you a spy? The hangman’s noose can be tightened well around the necks of traitorous women and men.

“I’m not a spy,” Leah stated. “I’m a major in Legacy Operations Command. It’s not a regular military unit, but…” She rolled her eyes. “The point is, I have the authority to negotiate with you and to secure this area to ensure you’re not disturbed.”

The ghost sneered. Who’s in command here? You don’t wear the uniform of the Continental Army. Are you militia? I’ll credit your bravery, though not your intellect. You should have known what would happen when you stood against the Crown.

“She’s in command. I’m Sergeant Benson.” He gestured at Jamie. “That’s Lieutenant Carter.” He ended the introductions by pointing at Emily. “Uh, she’s in our unit, but she’s a civilian. A doctor. The science kind, not the leech kind.”

What madness is this? The ghost looked at Benson and Leah. What balderdash. You’re in your cups, man. You claim this woman is your commander?

Benson shrugged. “She’s a major in the United States Legacy Operations Command. You understand what we’re saying, don’t you? We’re speaking English, and you’re…er, thinking English.”

You speak with an odd accent, the ghost replied.

Leah had questioned if the ghosts could reason. Jamie now appreciated her logic. This ghost could both reason and communicate, and he had not attacked again. That was a good sign.

“I was a captain in the Army before switching to the Legacy Operations Command,” Leah told the soldier. “Yes, I’m in command of this squad. We’re willing to negotiate terms, but you must understand the situation and why you should negotiate. It’s to your advantage, all of you here.”

Bringing along those French dogs doesn’t mean you’ll win, the ghost replied. General Cornwallis will defeat your wretched French-rebel alliance.

Jamie felt bad for the ghost. He was stuck in a past before the British loss.

Leah gestured around. “Doesn’t this look different from what you remember? Don’t our weapons look different?” She pointed at a floodlight. “Have you ever seen anything so bright at night? It’s not 1781. It’s the year of our Lord 2025. The battle you fought was hundreds of years ago.”

Trying to overwhelm a ghost with the marvels of modern technology was a novel strategy. Jamie doubted anyone had tried it before. He smiled.

The ghost cocked his head to the side. You claim to have served in the Continental Army and now serve in this Legacy Operations Command?

“It’s not the Continental Army anymore,” Leah replied. “It’s just the US Army. Didn’t you hear what I said? It’s 2025. We won the war.” She gestured at the pit. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, but you lost this battle and the war. You’re dead. It’s 2025, not 1781. You’re being abused and misused by terrible people. We can help you, but you have to calm down.”

The ghost didn’t move. The other ghosts didn’t lower their weapons, nor did they advance.

Jamie kept his attention on the closest ghost. He slung his rifle over his shoulder, hoping to defuse the situation. It was useless anyway. He was less surprised than he would have expected that Leah was talking to a ghost.

Leah nodded at Jamie and lowered her gun. She nodded at Benson, who slung his weapon over his shoulder.

“We mean you no harm,” Leah continued, holding her hands in front of her. “We believe a cursed artifact is responsible for holding you here, and we intend to find and remove it. If you are the spirit of a real man trapped here, that might help you move on. We’re not here for trouble. We’re only here to protect innocent people.”

The ghost remained motionless.

“Did she break him by making him face this truth?” Benson asked. “Poor bastard. He must not have known.”

“Do you know of any objects that might be affecting you?” Leah asked the ghost. “If you can show us the object, we can take it away.”

Lies. Balderdash. The ghost jerked its head toward her. You serve in the traitors’ forces, and we must kill all traitors. We must carry out our mission. Your words mean nothing, rebel spy. The noose is too good for anyone who’d spin such strands of deception.

“Please listen to me.” Leah frowned and backed away. “We can help you. You’re being used.”

Death to all traitors! The ghost lunged for Leah with his bayonet.

By reflex, Jamie leaped toward the ghost soldier and threw his arms around the man’s abdomen. The soldier solidified. His empty black eye sockets were the only remaining sign of his supernatural nature as Jamie took the soldier to the ground. “Try shooting him now!”

Leah pointed her pistol at the ghost, but she couldn’t get a good shot with Jamie on top of him.

Jamie punched the soldier in the face. The man’s head jerked back, and his grip on his musket loosened. Jamie yanked the musket away and threw it toward Benson. The weapon returned to its spectral form and passed through the sergeant before striking the ground and dissipating into mist.

“Take him down, Lieutenant!” Benson cheered. “Beat his ass!”

Jamie threw a few more punches before he realized he wasn’t feeling any resistance or hearing his blows connect. The soldier’s head snapped back with each punch, but there was no blood, swelling, or lacerations. Kicking a ghost’s ass for trying to stab Leah wasn’t satisfying or effective.

The other soldiers advanced toward them, moving slowly and deliberately. They kept their muskets aimed at the squad and the trees without firing.

Being able to hit ghosts with their fists didn’t mean they could win. Even if everyone took down a ghost, they were outnumbered. He needed to finish off the target. The ghost needed to die again.

Jamie drew his knife and stabbed the ghost in the heart. The blade passed through the soldier’s chest without cutting, only stopping when Jamie’s hand hit the soldier’s body. He pulled the knife back and punched the ghost again. “I’m not doing any damage,” he shouted and punched again. “All I’m doing is stunning him. This is pointless.”

Leah rushed around Jamie’s side, pointed her gun at the ghost’s head, and fired. The bullet passed through and struck the ground, throwing up dirt.

“Prepare to retreat beyond the perimeter,” Leah ordered, holstering her pistol. “We saw a red ghost in the forest, but nobody in town has reported anything. Whatever else is going on with these ghosts, they can’t go too far from the site. I don’t think they can manifest past the perimeter.”

“What if they can?” Benson asked, eyeing the other approaching ghosts.

“We have more hunters out there,” Jamie interjected. “If we can solidify them by punching or holding them, our squads can capture and contain them.”

The other ghost soldiers reached the table. To Jamie’s annoyance, they ducked behind it to use it a firing stand.

“Retreat!” Leah pointed at a perimeter tent.

Emily sprinted off first. Benson ran after her. Leah waited until Jamie delivered another punch to depart. Jamie hopped up, kicked the ghost in the stomach, and ran for the trees, his heart thundering.

The soldier stayed on the ground, returning to spectral form after a few seconds. His comrades fired a volley, and the musket balls whizzed past Jamie. Rounds struck tree trunks and blasted out bark and dust. A one-sided firefight, even against primitive weapons, wouldn’t end well for his team.

Leah hurdled a rotten tree trunk and raised her radio. “This is Legacy One. Squad is proceeding to the western edge of the site. Hostile UPDPs in pursuit. All squads prepare to pull back to the forest’s edge if hostiles breach the perimeter. Targets can be stunned by hand-to-hand strikes but are otherwise immune to conventional attacks.”

“Roger, Legacy One.”

The closest ghost soldier stood, scowling, undamaged by Jamie’s attacks or Leah’s bullet.

He stretched his arm out, and mist flowed from his hand and condensed into a new musket. The other soldiers marched forward while packing their barrels with their ramrods. Their slow reloading was Jamie’s squad’s only advantage.

The fleeing squad approached the circle of light poles that marked the edge of the chill zone. The perimeter squads waited near their tents, most in full tactical gear. They were well-trained and well-prepared to fight most enemies. Unfortunately, they’d be useless against ghost Redcoats.

They proved it moments later when they opened fire. Their bullets passed straight through the ghosts.

Panting, Emily left the chill zone first. Jamie’s focus on her shooting had made him forget that she’d upped her physical training to keep up during missions. That had saved her life.

As Benson, Leah, and Jamie approached the perimeter, the Redcoats finished reloading and opened fire. A musket ball tore into Benson’s back, the latest volley as silent as the others.

Benson grunted and stumbled to the ground. Jamie and Leah ran over to help him up. They draped his arms over their shoulders and jogged the last few yards to the perimeter. The ghost Redcoats continued their chase and reloaded.

When Jamie was a foot past a light pole, the ghost soldiers stopped advancing. When he and Leah helped Sergeant Benson out of the chill zone, the Redcoats lowered their weapons. They lingered without moving despite another barrage from the perimeter guards, then dispersed into mist that drifted back toward the pit.

“Sergeant, you with us?” Jamie asked.

“Yeah. I’m alive.” Benson grimaced. “Shit. I forgot how much it hurts to get shot.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“We need a medic,” Leah shouted, her heart pounding. “Everyone else, hold position for now. Keep an eye on the perimeter. The ghosts don’t show up on the drone feeds. If they reappear, I need to know right away.”

“Yes, ma’am!” the nearby guards shouted.

Leah glared at the floodlights near the pit. She’d worried about BCCS agents, not British ghosts. Thankfully, the ghosts didn’t kill by mere proximity. That didn’t change that a hostile force had shot Sergeant Benson.

This wasn’t like the gremlin. Leah couldn’t push past everything by focusing on the unpredictable threat. A good man had gone down, and it was her responsibility and her mistake. The mission wasn’t over yet.

Leah and Jamie helped Benson stumble to a bench beside a table. A stern-faced corporal hurried over, carrying a first-aid kit.

“How are you doing, Sergeant?” Leah stepped back. Despite her burning worry about the perimeter and the ghost Redcoats returning, she focused on him. She didn’t see any blood on his front, and the wounds on his back didn’t froth. “Can you breathe?”

“Yeah. No punctured lung. I’ve been there and done that in the desert.” Benson winced and offered a weak smile. “It’s okay, Major. It hurts like hell, but I’ve felt way worse. An AK hits harder. Bullets over musket balls. Rifles over smoothbores.”

“Don’t talk too much, Sergeant.” The medic set the first-aid kit on the table and opened it. He pulled an autoinjector out. “I’m giving you a shot of morphine.”

Benson nodded. “It’s been a while. He’s an old friend.”

Frowning, Jamie nodded at a tree away from the table. “Since the situation is under control, we should talk, Major.” He glanced back at the dig site. “Before those ghosts figure out how to escape the perimeter to do something other than lead us on wild goose chases.”

“I’ll help the corporal with Sergeant Benson,” Emily offered.

She sat next to Benson and smiled. Her pale face and trembling didn’t overwhelm the determined look in her eyes. Leah was proud of her. She wasn’t panicking despite one of her team members getting shot.

“One moment,” Leah told Jamie. She stepped toward the next closest guard, Corporal Gerdes. “Corporal.”

“Yes, Major?” Gerdes asked, keeping his attention on the chill zone.

“Did you see any Redcoat soldiers when we were retreating? I saw people open fire, but I need to confirm their targets.”

The perimeter guards hadn’t heard the marching, and Sposato’s people hadn’t seen anyone before the bayonet death. Leah wasn’t sure if the phenomenon was getting stronger or was limited to her squad.

“I can’t speak for everybody else, but I tagged a half-dozen British ghosts, ma’am,” Gerdes replied. “Old-time-y types in red coats. Glowed in the dark. I didn’t hear them move, speak, or shoot. I did see muzzle flash. All my bullets passed right through when I shot at ‘em.” He looked confused. “You didn’t see them at the end?”

“We did,” Leah replied. “I wanted to double-check that non-resistant individuals could see them outside the affected zone and you weren’t shooting at shadows or blurs.” She frowned and looked over her shoulder. “They gave up after we left the chill zone. I don’t think they can make a major push outside the perimeter, but keep alert. One demonstrated intelligence and the ability to understand spoken language.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Gerdes frowned. “Understood. We’ll assume enemy scouts are observing our movements.”

Leah followed Jamie to the tree and lowered her voice. “Before you say anything, that whole thing was a disaster. I depended on the perimeter and the drones to warn us of trouble. I should have known better. Ghost soldiers? Of course there are ghost soldiers on an old battlefield.” She scoffed. “That’s the one thing you’d expect.”

“We can’t be ready for every scenario. That’s the nature of the job. I didn’t expect a mummy in the Old North Church or a cursed musket leading to a man getting killed. Nobody expected the gremlin.”

Leah nodded at Benson. “The sergeant might not be that blasé about the idea that we can’t be prepared.”

“Benson took a hit, but he looks stable. We’ve both read his file. This isn’t his first time getting wounded, and the last time didn’t involve ghosts.”

Leah gritted her teeth. “Those ghosts overwhelmed us, and they could come out of the chill zone sooner or later.”

“Our guns and my knife didn’t work, but my fists did. At least out here, we have superior numbers.”

“The ghosts could summon reinforcements,” Leah countered. “There were many more at first, and hundreds of British troops died during the Siege of Yorktown. Even if we brought every hunter from the base, we couldn’t contain that many. They can stab and shoot us, and all we can do is stun them for a moment.”

Leah folded her arms and glared into the forest. The floodlights around the pit haloed the trees within the perimeter. The appeal of an airstrike grew with each passing minute. Unfortunately, there was no reason to suspect bombs would work where bullets had failed.

“I’m assuming you’re not planning to cut and run,” Jamie stated.

“Of course not,” Leah replied. “We need to figure out what happened. They might come out eventually, but they’ve retreated for now.” She shook her head. “This was a major escalation. I’ve wondered why Drake or one of his agents isn’t on site. The BCCS might have been waiting for us to show up and unlock the tomb for them. They might have known this would happen.”

Jamie pointed at a light pole. “The ghosts can’t leave the perimeter.”

“Yet. That might not matter, depending on the plan. The presence of ghost soldiers guaranteed we’d show up, one way or another. This could have been more about eliminating us without risking resistant personnel.”

“You’re saying Drake’s running low on resistant personnel, so he tried to assassinate us with ghosts?” Jamie glanced at a passing hunter. “I hate how plausible that sounds.”

“The entire US government is helping us look for the BCCS, and no one has found much,” Leah replied. “A platoon of ghost infantry is a big step up from one stabbing.” She nodded at Gerdes. “What’s interesting is our people saw the ghost soldiers. Sposato’s people couldn’t. Whatever UPDO is fueling the ghosts, it’s getting stronger, and I don’t believe it’s a coincidence. There has been a major jump after we opened the door, and we don’t know how to reactivate whatever was sealing that place. That means it’s our responsibility to get this under control.”

Jamie shrugged. “The increase in visibility could be a coincidence. We don’t know. The bayonet death drew us here and pushed everyone else away from the site. It could be as simple as nobody stayed around long enough at night for more to happen.”

Leah scoffed. “Sposato talked a big game, but he must have been scared. You know what? Good. His fear saved lives. Everybody on that crew could have been killed if he was more stubborn.”

Emily jogged over to the tree with far more color on her cheeks than before. “Sergeant Benson is stable, Major. The medic couldn’t find a musket ball in his back. There’s no exit wound, and the primary wound is shallow. He and the sergeant both seemed surprised.”

“The ball must have disappeared,” Leah said. “It could have happened when we passed the perimeter or when the ghosts vanished. The musket vanished when it separated from the ghost. There might be a tight range limit with that type of weapon.” She nodded at Jamie. “We’ll take care of our people first, then figure out how to fix this.”

“Agreed,” he replied.

Leah returned to the table and gestured at Benson with a huge smile. “Emily says he’s stable. Is he stable enough to travel?”

The medic frowned. “Yes, ma’am, but I wouldn’t let him operate heavy machinery, given the morphine I pumped into him. Too much movement will make the wound worse. He needs further treatment to seal up that wound. All I did was apply a temporary patch.”

Benson grinned. His gaze was unfocused, and he was paler than before. “It still hurts, but I don’t care. That ghost bastard. I’ll get the Ghostbusters on his ass, and then he’ll be sorry.”

“We’ll get somebody to take the sergeant back to Camp Legacy for further treatment,” Leah said. She frowned. “It’s going to be a bumpy ride back to the SUVs.” She gestured at the main site. “There’s not enough room for a helicopter to set down, and that’s the largest clearing we’ve found. Is he stable enough to get back to the edge of the forest?”

The medic smiled. “He should be, ma’am.”

“I can take it.” Benson waved his hand in front of his face. “This is way better than being out in the middle of nowhere and waiting for a medevac. I could drive, but I’d crash, so why not keep me here?” He stared at her with constricted pupils, a side effect of the morphine. “It was more like a big bug bite, Major. Let me sleep it off, and I’ll finish the mission with you. I owe those ghost bastards payback.”

The medic shook his head. “The wound isn’t deep, but he should not shake it off, ma’am. He needs follow-up care, or it will end up being life-threatening.”

“Sergeant Benson, I’m ordering you to return to Camp Legacy,” Leah directed. “I’m not risking you crippling or killing yourself on this mission.”

“You’ll be down to three resistant hunters, Major,” Benson replied. “You need the full squad. The doc’s great, but she’s not a substitute for me.”

“I’m aware of that. My orders stand.”

“That’s no fun. You’re stubborn, like my first wife. Or was that my second?” Benson chuckled. “It’s hard to remember right now. I know neither of them were ghosts.”

Leah turned to the medic. “Coordinate with Lieutenant Obi to get a medevac to the forest's edge, then escort Sergeant Benson to the helicopter. No reason to make him wait another hour for follow-up treatment after a rough ride through the forest.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the medic replied.

“You don’t need to do that, Major,” Benson protested. “I’m serious.”

“You were shot by a ghost musket ball,” Leah replied. “I don’t care how you feel. For all we know, it’s poisonous. We already have this part of the county blocked off. If anyone questions the helicopter, I’ll tell the locals one of my team got hurt in an accident at the pit.”

Benson half-closed his eyes. “A break doesn’t sound so bad when you say it like that. After a long nap, this will feel better.”

Leah took a deep breath and nodded at the medic. She motioned Lieutenant Obi toward the corporal and strolled back to Jamie, then looked around. “Where’s Emily?”

“She’s refilling her canteen,” Jamie replied. “I think seeing Benson get shot wigged her out more than she let on.”

“Will she be okay? Your honest opinion. I will send her back to base if she can’t deal with it.”

Jamie frowned. “She’s stronger than she thinks, and this time, there’s no moral dilemma weighing her down. We’ve got a bigger problem. We have to go back in there.”

“Yes, we do,” Leah replied.

“How do we fight ghosts we can’t shoot, but who can shoot us?”

“We can hit them. That’s something.”

“I didn’t hurt him. I just slowed him down. We could bring in more hunters, but that would stall the enemy, not eliminate them.” Jamie nodded at the dig site. “You wanted to go low-level with searching the bunker, which could take hours. Do we want people in the chill zone wrestling ghosts for hours?”

“We could try talking to them again,” Leah posited. “That ghost was clearly intelligent.”

Jamie scoffed. “The ghost went from worrying about women being on the battlefield to wanting to kill you in no time flat. They killed that worker without warning him.”

“Maybe they did warn him, and the worker didn’t hear it.” Leah thought about their exploration of the bunker and the night’s events. “I’ve been thinking about something else. I didn’t pay much attention to it before, but now that I’ve had time to think about it, I realize the perimeter’s off. It’s not what we thought.”

Jamie looked confused. “What do you mean?”

Leah motioned to the light poles. “The drone feeds make it clearer when you see all the lights our squads set up. The perimeter isn’t exactly a hundred yards from the pit’s center. The source of the phenomenon is centered on the site, but it’s offset with regard to the east entrance. The chill zone extends farther to the east, so the door isn’t making the ghosts. I suspect it’s letting them out, but it’s not the UPDO we’re interested in.”

“It could be a wall or one of the cannon balls.”

“None of us felt anything different around any of the artifacts,” Leah noted. “That bunker is nothing but a big stretched-out oval with empty alcoves. If this was only about the bunker, there’d be no reason to seal it with a special door. I don’t know what was involved with doing that, but it couldn’t have been easy, no matter what knowledge those people had.”

Jamie nodded. “Therefore, there’s a UPDO hidden inside. That matches what we believed before.”

“The way everything unfolded supports that conclusion,” Leah agreed. “Most of those ghosts turned into mist and went into the pit. The UPDO being separate from the door explains the off-center perimeter.”

Jamie frowned. “Does that do us any good? If you’re right, the UPDO is closer to the east end of the bunker than the entrance, but we looked through the whole place. Maybe we’re wrong, and we should check the western alcove again.”

“We’re missing something,” Leah mused. “Otherwise, we would have felt more in the alcove.”

“So, how do you want to approach this?”

“We’re one person down, but we’ll do a more thorough search.”

Jamie frowned. “With all due respect, we can’t ask non-resistant hunters to defend us for hours. That’s asking for casualties.”

“Nobody died in Sposato’s crew until he stayed at the site at night,” Leah replied. “And we only saw flashes of color until nightfall.” She pointed at the sky. “We won’t return to the chill zone until the sun’s up, and then we’ll search that place for a hidden chamber or alcove. We find that, we find the UPDO, and we neutralize it with barrier candles during transport. The warehouse knows about the perimeter, so I’m sure they’re digging a big hole right now.”

Jamie looked away. “What if you’re wrong? What if there’s no single object? What’s our backup plan?”

“Burying the site again and dumping a parking lot’s worth of concrete over it is one idea,” Leah offered. “If not that, destruction. We can spin a story about gas leaks and explosions.” She shook her head. “I’d rather not risk that.”

“What are our squad’s orders for tonight?”

“We’ll hold position and monitor the perimeter with the other squads and drones.” Leah frowned and pulled out her phone. “I just thought of something.” She entered a code to go secure and dialed.

“This is Nguyen,” was the response when the call connected. “Is everyone okay, Major? Were you under attack? We didn’t see any enemies on the drone feeds.”

“Ghosts that don’t show up on drones attacked us. Sergeant Benson was injured, and he’ll be back at base soon. I want you to check on something on the drone recordings.”

“Sure thing. What do you need?”

Leah checked her watch. “Have someone go back to when we emerge from our tents and run to the perimeter. I want you to verify what you see in the recordings. Call me back when that’s done.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Lieutenant Nguyen hung up.

Leah frowned. “I hope my theory’s right.”

Jamie walked toward the perimeter. “I’ll be right back. I want to check something.”

“Don’t get hurt,” Leah called, watching as the medic left with Sergeant Benson. “I need you to work twice as hard now.”

Jamie frowned and stopped near a light pole. He stepped back and forth a few times before heading back to Leah. “I thought I noticed this earlier when we were running. The perimeter has expanded by about a foot since this morning.”

Leah clenched her jaw. “A foot or two a day is bad. If it speeds up, we’ll need the entire battalion to guard the perimeter.”

“What are you hoping the IP will find? You didn’t give them much to go on.”

“I’m hoping they’ll find hope.”

“Hope?”

“I didn’t want to bias them.”

Leah fell silent and worked through the options, given that she was down to three resistant personnel. On most missions, she didn’t care that Emily wasn’t a combat specialist, but this was the first time they’d fought ghosts.

As she ran through the tenth scenario in her head, Lieutenant Nguyen called back. Leah answered with her stomach tight. She needed a win for the night.

“Ma’am, I don’t know what to say,” Nguyen began. “I had two hunters review the recordings in addition to me going through them. We can see ghost soldiers on them, but our drone pilots and analysts only saw our hunters during the incident.”

“I was worried about something like that.” Leah sighed. “For now, double up staffing. I want someone reviewing all drone feeds with a thirty-second delay, and the analysts reviewing the feeds again after five minutes. Non-resistant personnel might rationalize or forget what they’ve seen, so make sure people keep logs. We won’t return to the site until morning, but I want triple-layer drone surveillance maintained until further notice, with particular emphasis on ensuring none of the perimeter guards get surprised.”

“Understood, ma’am.”

“I’ll call again later for your report.” Leah ended the call.

“Why thirty seconds?” Jamie asked.

“Because I don’t know if there’s a delay in the effect, and we don’t have time to experiment. The perimeter’s expanding. We’re now on a firm deadline.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The following day, Jamie was sitting at a table in the perimeter camp, biting into the cracker from his MRE when Leah emerged from her new tent. They’d slept outside the perimeter after deciding they couldn’t take the risk of summoning more ghosts until they’d figured out a more reliable way of taking them down than tackling and punching.

Leah made her way to the table. Dark circles haunted her eyes. “Any word from the base concerning the sergeant’s condition?”

Jamie swallowed his bite. “Benson’s stable and all stitched up. No conventional poisoning, radiation poisoning, or organ damage. According to the doctor, he shouldn’t return to the field for at least six weeks. Otherwise, he risks reopening the wound. Not bad for a guy who was shot in the back by a ghost.”

Leah sat next to Jamie. “You’re right. It could have been far worse. He could have died right then and there.” She raised an eyebrow. “Did you say radiation poisoning?”

“The doctor was thorough.” Jamie smiled and took another bite of cracker. “You were worried about poison the other night.”

“I was, and the doctor is thinking the right way,” Leah replied. “We can’t exclude any risks, so I shouldn’t have been surprised.”

Jamie chuckled. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I was surprised too when I heard they’d checked for radiation poisoning.”

“We’ve fought a mummy that could kill you just by being near you. By the time we retire, I wonder if everything we know about the world will be turned upside down.” Leah shook her head. “Or will we have learned enough that these things won’t be so weird and different on every mission?”

Jamie nibbled the cracker. “Everything we know is still true, but there’s more that’s true on top of that. Shooting a normal guy will kill him, and viruses make people sick.” He gestured at the light poles. “If you think about it, we’re at the forefront of expanding human knowledge. That’s what Emily would say.”

“I don’t know how to feel about that,” Leah admitted. “I’d prefer that we expand human knowledge without my personnel getting shot by ghosts.”

“I don’t disagree with that sentiment.”

Leah’s gaze slid over to the light pole. “Nobody woke me up, so I presume the Redcoat company didn’t return.” She looked at the hunters scattered through the area. “As much as I’d love to hear we figured out how to fight the ghosts last night.”

“The guards all reported no activity after the initial incident.” Jamie polished off the last of his food and took a sip from his canteen. “Nobody spotted any flashes of color or weird shadows, either. The IP is maintaining the enhanced review staffing you ordered. They’ve seen nothing unusual.” He frowned. “They did confirm that the fog in the pit vanished after a few minutes.”

“Does that mean the ghosts went inside?” Leah asked. “Or went somewhere else?”

Jamie shrugged. “Nobody knows.”

“That’s the problem.” Leah gazed past the trees at the tents near the pit. “The ghosts were aggressive enough to shoot at us, but we were safe once we left the perimeter. Does that mean they can’t shoot past it, or are we invisible to them past that point?”

“Another good question,” Jamie replied. “Knowing we can escape if we pull back far enough will have to do for now. I wouldn’t advise further attempts at diplomacy.”

“I agree. If the info I dumped on the ghost last night didn’t convince it, nothing we can say will.” Leah frowned. “Did you probe the perimeter’s edge this morning?”

He shook his head. “I was waiting for your orders on that. There’s a chance that entering the chill zone will call the ghosts back.” He looked up. “Since we saw red flashes during the day.”

“Even if the perimeter increase hasn’t sped up, we’ll talking about having to push the stations back within a few days,” Leah noted.

“if it maintains that speed, it’d take years to get to the road,” Jamie noted. “It’s not a clear and present danger to the public if we control this site.”

“It wouldn’t take years for somebody else to come into this forest.” Leah stood and surveyed the light poles marking the original perimeter. “And we can’t keep this entire forest locked down forever. We can’t withdraw until we neutralize the UPDO fueling those ghosts.”

Jamie shrugged. “As I said, the ghosts might reappear the second we step inside the chill zone. Until we establish that, everything is dangerous.”

“Which is why we’ll test it together.” Leah gestured at a fully geared-up hunter a few yards from a pole. “Put everyone on alert. If this goes badly, I want the whole unit prepared to retreat. The other shifts can rest later.”

Jamie nodded. “Understood.”

Ten minutes later, a line of USLC hunters holding rifles watched Jamie and Leah creep toward the chill zone. The pair had borrowed tactical vests and rifles since both had left their equipment in the inner camp in their flight from the ghost Redcoats.

Jamie alternated between irritation and embarrassment over their one-sided ass-kicking. No one wanted to lose a fight when he was protecting his friends, but he was not stubborn enough to ignore the harsh reality that the supernatural offered unique threats. Grit, honor, and loyalty didn’t guarantee victory.

Jamie took a deep breath and eyed the ground. The clear weather and bright sun made it feel warmer than it had in days. That made it easy to mark the transition into the chill zone. He shivered a couple of feet before reaching the first pole. “You feel that, Major?”

Leah nodded. “I feel it. The chill zone expanded overnight.”

“It doesn’t look like the expansion rate sped up compared to yesterday. Judging by this, it’s around two feet a day, or roughly an inch an hour.”

“That’s not fast enough to give me nightmares, but it is annoying and dangerous. I’d prefer it if we handled this all today.” Leah’s teeth chattered. She took a deep breath and blew it out, managing to stop shivering.

“Do we pull back?”

Leah motioned him forward. “The last time, we heard them before we saw them. I wouldn’t put it past the ghosts to have learned their lesson.”

Jamie surveyed the woods and advanced toward the inner camp. He didn’t hear marching steps or spot flashes of red. The ghosts didn’t leap from the trees in ambush.

Leah and Jamie crept forward in silence for over a minute, not leaving the perimeter camp or reinforcements far behind.

“Minuteman One,” Leah whispered into her radio. “This is Legacy One doing a radio check.”

Lieutenant Obi replied, “Five by five, Legacy One. No hostiles. No visual distortions. We place you about ten yards into the chill zone.”

“Copy that.” Leah turned to Jamie. “We can pick up the pace. I’m feeling more confident.”

Jamie nodded and shifted to a normal walking speed to match Leah. He didn’t want to sprint into danger and end up too tired to retreat if another ghost company showed up, eager to finish what they’d started in 1781.

He spun toward a sudden movement on the edge of his vision. Fluttering wings and the outline of a small bird mocked his concerns. Leah glanced at the bird but didn’t say anything.

It didn’t take long for them to reach the clearing. Nothing looked different besides new bullet and musket ball holes here and there. There was no fog in the pit.

Jamie led Leah to a tree and gestured at a hole in the trunk and the cracked bark around the wound. “It wasn’t only Benson they nailed.”

Leah poked her gloved finger into the hole. “There’s no musket ball, same as with his wound.”

“Does that mean the round disappeared after he left the zone, or did it disappear after it penetrated him?”

“I won’t keep anyone who gets wounded within the zone long enough to find out or throw myself in front of ghosts, but I theorize that their maximum effective range is less than a normal musket from that period.”

Jamie frowned at the hole. “I wondered if they didn’t take their initial shots because they were worried about hitting the other ghosts or if they weren’t sure they could reach us.”

“I doubt we’ll get many chances to test it in a controlled environment. What would you say we’re looking at, then?”

“Ten to fifteen yards?”

“That’s what I think. Too bad our guns don’t work against them. We’d slaughter them.”

Jamie and Leah strode toward their tents. They poked their heads into the women’s tent, finding everything as they’d left it the night before, other than the new holes. The men’s tent and the supply tent weren’t any different.

Leah stepped out of the supply tent and frowned at the ground. She motioned toward boot tracks. “I see our tracks, but I don’t see the ghosts’. How physical are they?”

“They’re physical enough to hurt us. That’s the important part. That first soldier tried to bayonet you.”

Leah headed to the edge of the pit and crouched to check the door. “It’s in the same position as last night.”

Jamie eyed his rifle, wondering why they had bothered bringing weapons that didn’t work. The M7 provided a false sense of security. Knives also didn’t work on the ghosts.

Leah stood. “It’s a small sample size, but given the stabbing and last night, I don’t think they can come out during the day. We were inside for a while and they didn’t appear, but we need to make sure it’s safe before we include Emily.”

She slung her rifle over her shoulder and slid down the ladder, then waited at the door for Jamie. When he got there, she pushed open the door and stepped into the entrance chamber with her eyes narrowed.

Jamie followed and looked around. Nothing had changed since their first visit, and no ghosts popped out of the walls to attack them. “Now what?”

“We’ll go ten yards into the left branch with our lights on,” Leah stated. “We’ll wait ten minutes, and if we don’t run into any ghosts, we’ll grab Emily and explore this place while we have daylight.”

Jamie frowned. “It might be better if I did this alone.”

“There’s no way in hell I’m sending somebody into a UPDO situation alone,” Leah replied. “We’ll radio it in. If we don’t re-establish radio contact with the main unit in twenty minutes, Obi can call the shots.”

Twenty minutes later, Jamie emerged from the bunker, his heart pounding more than he expected. They’d stood rigid, peering into the darkness with their headlamps and flashlights, looking for ghosts that were unaffected by their rifles.

He wasn’t afraid to fight a ghost. He’d done that the night before. He was worried that he’d screw up and Leah would get hurt. Luck, more than strategy, had saved her from getting shot like Sergeant Benson.

Leah stepped out of the bunker with a confident smile. “Okay, we can do this during the day. That’s good to know. We’ll head back and grab Emily now. Any objections?”

“I want you to acknowledge that we have a limited ability to fight those ghosts,” Jamie demanded.

“I acknowledge that. We might also be the only ones who can fight them. I want Emily here to discuss that.”

They burned over an hour of daylight before they returned to the main camp to collect backpacks and other gear they’d left in their escape the night before. That didn’t include the hour they’d used up between dawn and probing the chill zone.

Jamie stood at the edge of the pit with a frown, Emily and Leah nearby. “According to the RP, we’ve got only eight hours of daylight left, Major.”

Leah nodded. “To be safe, we won’t push it past six and a half. When we hit that mark, we’ll withdraw to the perimeter camp. Assuming we don’t find the UPDO by then, we’ll review our evidence and develop a more specific plan of attack for tomorrow morning.”

Emily looked more determined than she had the night before. She snapped pictures as they approached the pit. “How did you want to do this, Major? I assume you’re thinking a slower, closer search with regular lights and the blacklights will turn something up?”

“That’s the plan. We have zero reason to believe our specialty equipment will work any better than Sposato’s, but we might come up with something else. We can send the data offsite for analysis and filtering.”

Emily lowered the camera. “It’d go quicker if we split up to search the branches.”

Leah scoffed. “I’ve been concerned about developing consistent doctrine when dealing with UPDOs. As a rule-of-thumb, we won’t split up the resistant squad when we head into haunted bunkers guarded by hostile armed ghosts.”

“That’s a very specific scenario.” Jamie snickered. “I’d love to see the PowerPoint briefing. Ghosts and You: Dos and Don’ts.”

Emily smiled. “Depending on how carefully we search, it might take more than one day to go through the passages.”

“That’s fine by me.” Leah frowned. “We’re down one member, and we’re lucky he’s not dead. We cannot explore this place without taking risks, but that doesn’t mean we should take stupid risks.” She gestured at the door. “I’ve been wracking my brain to figure out a better defense than punching them. I don’t understand why bullets and knives don’t work, but fists do.”

Emily raised her hand. “I can theorize, Major, though admittedly without a firm basis.”

Leah shrugged. “Sometimes theory is all we have with UPDOs.”

“It might have something to do with us being alive.” Emily patted her chest. “Or having a soul, depending on your viewpoint. Bullets and knives aren’t alive. Insofar as a ghost was formerly alive, it might be that such an entity can only be affected by someone or something living.”

Jamie shook his head. “We don’t know that they are ghosts. I’m not saying they aren’t after that soldier’s rant last night, but I am throwing that out there for consideration.”

“Does it matter?” Emily asked. “I’m not being flippant, Lieutenant, but to the best of our knowledge, UPDOs and UPDPs are affected by beliefs. Whether they are independent of the UPDO doesn’t matter. It’s about what people believe about ghosts.”

Jamie thought that over before offering a shallow nod. “Doesn’t that mean we could try something like holding them back with holy symbols or salt?”

“Salt.” Emily retrieved a packet from her belt pouch. “We’d need a lot more than this to experiment.”

Leah grimaced. “We also need a ghost, and I’d prefer to be out of the chill zone before we face another one.”

Jamie headed for the ladder. “I concur, Major.”

“If these are ghosts,” Emily added, “don’t we have a responsibility to help them find their rest?”

Leah sighed. “Our mission is to identify, neutralize, and recover the UPDO. I understand where you’re coming from, but I don’t know how we’d do that.”

Jamie climbed down the ladder. Soldiers understood that they risked their lives for their country. Implicit in accepting that risk was the idea that they would someday be free of that burden. He was no Viking. An eternal battle without rest was hell. “We take care of the UPDO, and we protect the locals and help the ghosts. Everybody wins.”

Jamie glanced at the words on the door. He didn’t want to believe the Redcoats were ghosts, but he couldn’t shake the feeling they were after the conversation the night before.

“Screw the BCCS.” He spat on the ground. “How dare they do that to men serving their country?”

Emily came down the ladder. “I’m surprised you care what happened to the British troops.”

“Look, I have spent my adult life serving my country one way or another,” Jamie stated. “I’m glad we won the Revolution, but I don’t hate the British soldiers who did their duty. War is failed diplomacy. I accepted that when I joined the Army.

“Soldiers, or in this case, hunters, protect what’s important to them and their country. I don’t have to hate the other side if they fight with honor. Unlike George Drake, those guys had honor. That’s why the Continental Army didn’t have to grind them into a paste at Yorktown.”

“We’ll contact Obi with a new withdrawal plan, just in case.” Leah hurried down the ladder. “We’re lucky. Right now, the best way to protect and honor all sides is to complete our mission.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Leah examined the first alcove with a flashlight and her headlamp, looking for anything useful but finding only dirt and pebbles. Jamie stood outside, making Xs on a notepad. Although the cameras on their phones and Emily’s SLRs worked, Leah didn’t trust they wouldn’t suffer a data loss and had ordered analog mapping to back up their efforts.

She was less comfortable with Sergeant Benson being gone than she’d anticipated, but there wasn’t a choice. She couldn’t leave the UPDO uncontained for over a month to wait for his recovery.

Beyond the risk of perimeter expansion increasing faster, the BCCS might send agents to infiltrate the bunker and grab the UPDO. She had worried they would take advantage of the ghosts forcing their retreat the night before to do so, but the extra squads and drone coverage had given her enough peace of mind to sleep.

She finished her regular sweep and pulled a blacklight off her belt. “Try the radio again, Lieutenant.”

They’d performed radio checks every ten yards. Leah hoped to find a pocket they could use to save them the trouble of traveling back to the entrance chamber to contact the unit.

Jamie pressed the transmit button on his radio. “Minuteman One, this is Legacy Two. Do you copy?”

No one replied. Leah wasn’t surprised. It had been the same with their previous radio checks, but they could never predict what signals UPDOs might disrupt, so it didn’t hurt to check.

Emily stared at the screen on the back of the camera. “That’s interesting. That’s very interesting.”

Leah looked up from her unsuccessful blacklight examination of the alcove wall. “Did you find something, Emily? So far, I’m not seeing anything besides dirt and rocks.”

“Maybe. I compared pictures under different lighting, and I noticed slight differences on one part of the wall. I’m not sure if it’s a trick of the light or if it means something.”

Jamie tucked the pad and pen into a belt pouch. “Where on the wall?”

Emily walked into the alcove and scooted past Leah to point at a small section. “There.” She backed away with a frown. “It’s like there’s a shadowing effect.” She tilted her head to the side. “Not shadowing. Drop shadows? That’s what it reminds me of.”

“Drop shadows?” Leah echoed. “That’s too specific to be an accident.”

“I could be trying too hard to see something that isn’t there, Major.”

“We’re all doing that right now. That’s half the point.”

Leah ran her hand across the section, brushing off a thick layer of dust. Her blacklight didn’t reveal anything special, but her regular light highlighted shallow indentations in the wall. After clearing off the dust, she found two short lines of capital letters followed by Roman numerals. Given the random nature of the letters, they’d found another cipher with encryption keys.

She grinned. “Good job, Emily. I’ll never complain about you taking pictures again.”

Emily smiled. “I’m glad I could help, Major.”

Jamie peered into the alcove. “What do we have here?”

“More words and Roman numerals. The numbers are…17-6-75.” Leah backed out of the alcove and motioned to the numbers. “Sometimes it pays to double-check. Let’s get pictures and copy them manually.”

“Shall I decode it?” Jamie asked. “We can’t contact the RP or the IP from here.”

Leah frowned. “Wait on that. I don’t want to burn our daylight search time with decryption yet.” She patted her headlamp. “We’ll move quicker now that we have a better idea of what we’re looking for, and the alcoves make the most sense to check. If we don’t find anything at the other alcoves, we’ll search the rest of the walls.”

Leah smiled as she read off another set of numbers. It was the fourth set, this one hidden in the middle of the fork leading from the front chamber before the path broke into the two side passages. “With that, we have four sets. 17-6-75. 25-9-75. 27-8-76. 3-3-79.”

“They correspond to the cardinal directions,” Jamie noted. “I have a hard time believing that’s accidental.”

“Maybe.” Leah sighed. “We need to figure out what the numbers represent. They almost look like dates.”

Emily cleared her throat. “I wanted to wait until we had all the information, but I’m almost certain they are dates.”

“You sure?”

“They’re rendered in a British day-month-year format rather than month-day-year format. That was common for the colonists and the British at the time.” Emily shrugged. “The switch in the US is more recent.”

“Okay, what’s important about these dates?” Jamie asked after checking an image on his phone.

“They represent the dates of the battles at Bunker Hill, Longue-Point, Long Island, and Briar Creek, respectively,” Emily announced with a smile. “I was seventy-five percent certain when we found the first date since I figured it was unlikely it’d just happen to match such an important battle, but it’s like the major always says. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions and bias my thinking.”

Leah stared at her, surprised and pleased. “Did you memorize the date of every Revolutionary War battle?”

“Not all of them. Not yet, but I’m working on it.” Emily shrugged. “After what happened in Boston, I’ve learned the importance of what might be considered trivia in staying alive in this job. I didn’t want to end up in a situation where we were trapped and needed a number or location and had no way of getting hold of somebody with the answer.”

“Good call, Emily.” Leah grinned.

“She’s right.” Jamie laughed. “Right. Good job. Damned good job.” He pulled out his phone and swiped through pictures of the ciphers. “Do the names of those battles correspond to the displacement values? They’re all two-word names. I don’t think that’s chance either. Everything about those encoded messages is so precise that we found two lines of eight words each at the three alcoves and this wall.”

Leah gestured at the open door. “Don’t worry about it for now. We’ll step out momentarily and let the IP brute-force the solution. We’ve made good time and found what we needed.” She nodded at the passages. “It’s been bothering me since we checked this place the first time, but this layout doesn’t make sense. I don’t know if that’s part of this place’s defenses or something else.”

Jamie nodded. “It’d make more sense to dig out a central chamber and use that. They put in tons of effort to create an oval with two narrow paths. It’s not a good defensive structure.”

“I believe there’s a hidden chamber in the oval,” Leah explained. “If we go from the alcoves and measure the distances, I bet it lies near the center. The question is how we get in.”

Jamie frowned and glanced at the map he’d created. “This map isn’t precise. The oval shape might be related to the power that locked the door. We’ve seen that sort of thing before.”

“I’ve wondered about that, too. If we know what we’re looking for, we can figure it out.” Leah gestured at the front door. “Before we figure it out, we need to decode the text and take advantage of Emily’s discovery. We want to make sure we have what we need to get into any hidden chambers.”

Emily took a final picture, lowered the camera, and strolled toward the door. “You don’t think it’ll be as simple as using our noble spirits, do you, Major?”

Leah grimaced, not liking the use of BCCS’ term. “I think if that’s all it is, they wouldn’t have bothered leaving complicated encrypted messages. As far as we know, no organized pro-American group was looking for UPDOs at the time. They had no natural predator like they do today.”

Emily stepped out of the bunker, turned back to it, and took a deep breath. “We weren’t inside that long, but it’s nice to smell the outside air.”

The ground shook. Emily stumbled and fell to her knees. Her cameras jerked toward the open doorway. Only the straps around her neck kept them from flying off.

The heavy stone door crashed shut, catching the cameras and crushing them with a loud crunch. Leah gasped and ran toward the door, looking for blood. The tremors stopped.

“What the hell was that?” Leah shouted, her heart thundering. “Help me out here.”

Jamie rushed over to the door. He and Leah dug their fingers into the edge and tried to pull it open. When that failed, they both backed away.

One failure didn’t mean complete failure. Sometimes, it took more effort. “On three,” Leah declared, turning her shoulder to the door.

“Let’s do it.” Jamie turned his body and rolled his shoulder.

“One, two, three.”

They charged the door and slammed their shoulders into the stone. Pain shot through Leah’s arm, but the door didn’t budge.

“Emily didn’t get caught in that, did she?” Leah asked, her heart pounding. She checked the edge of the door with her lights before kneeling, picking up a plastic chunk from one of the cameras, and turning it over.

“It was only the cameras, from what I could see,” Jamie replied. “Freak accident, but she was clear by a few inches. It was damned close, but she should be safe outside.”

“What if… No, it can’t be.” Leah shook her head and reached for her radio. “Minuteman One, this is Legacy One,” she called. “Can you hear me?”

“Minuteman One, this is Legacy Two,” Jamie radioed. “There’s an emergency. Can you hear us?”

Leah walked over to the door and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Emily,” she shouted. “Can you hear us?”

The ensuing silence pained Leah more than the quiet radio. She backed away from the door, shaking her head. They were cut off inside the bunker with no apparent way out.

“Why didn’t this happen before?” she asked grimly.

Jamie glared at the door, then kicked it. “Who knows? It could have been booby-trapped this entire time, waiting for us to return. Or it could have responded to our odd numbers or the fight we had the other day. It doesn’t matter since it doesn’t change our situation.”

“Yes.” Leah took a deep breath. “We’re trapped in a haunted bunker.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Jamie tried to come up with escape options. He didn’t have time to worry about practical concerns like being cut off from fresh air and how long they’d be able to breathe. He couldn’t shoot through inches of stone with one rifle and limited magazines, but thinking about the weapon gave him another idea. He drew his combat knife from its sheath.

Leah arched a brow and gestured at the knife. “Of all the ways to get out of here, that’s not one I would have thought to try. You think we can cut our way out?”

“Not exactly.” Jamie pounded on the door with the hilt. “She can’t hear us yelling. She might be able to hear that.”

A long, tense span passed with no response. He grimaced and put the knife away. “Shit. I thought I was on to something.”

Leah sighed. “We have to consider extreme alternatives, even if they’re questionable and not safety-regulation compliant.”

Jamie eyed his rifle. “The M7’s the obvious choice, but we’ll get ricochets from a stone door that thick.”

“Then we take cover and see what penetration we can get.” Leah headed toward the fork and knelt behind a wall. “It’s worth a shot.” She grimaced. “No pun intended.”

Jamie chuckled and jogged toward the opposite wall. He unslung his rifle, switched to burst mode, and leaned past his cover, lining up a careful shot at the door.

“Aim low and to the side,” Leah ordered. “I don’t want to shoot Emily accidentally if she’s in front of the door and, by some miracle, your bullets penetrate it.”

Jamie nodded and adjusted his aim, then pulled the trigger. The muzzle flashes lit up the room. The bullets sparked before bouncing off and digging into the side wall in the entrance chamber. The impacts blasted dirt and pebbles into the chamber.

“You were right about the ricochet.” Leah sighed. “Too bad they built this place so solidly. We can’t chip through all that stone, even if we use all our ammo.”

Jamie waved dust out of his face. “I knocked dirt loose on the walls, so we could theoretically blast our way out by shooting through the dirt.”

Leah stood and returned to the front chamber. She ran her fingers along the wall where the bullets struck. “The walls are thick enough to repel cannon balls. I doubt we have enough ammo to equal repeated strikes. Can we dig out the old-fashioned way?”

Jamie snickered. “The spade is with Benson’s gear. It’s at the camp, but⁠—”

“It’s not in here with us,” Leah finished. “It doesn’t matter. I doubt we’d be able to dig out in time if this place was sealed using physics-defying techniques.”

“You mean magic?” Jamie grinned.

Leah frowned. “I…”

“We’re past the point of dancing around the terms. You tried to negotiate with a ghost last night. Ghosts are magic.”

“They’re supernatural,” Leah countered. “That’s not the same as magical.”

“If you say so.”

Jamie didn’t want to annoy Leah with a debate during a stressful situation. He’d only mentioned it to keep her from being close-minded about solutions. He was having trouble coming up with anything useful. In another situation, he would love having time alone with her. He’d never imagined dealing with a haunted bunker connected with killer Redcoat ghosts. He had to get her out of there.

She walked over to the door, sweeping her flashlight and headlamp across the surface. “I don’t see any damage from your shots.”

“This whole place was sealed.” Jamie gestured at the door. “We kept saying the bunker isn’t a UPDO, but the door, by our standard definition, is. Does that mean it’s responsible for the ghosts? We’ve been violating your rule by assuming too much about what the shape of the place means and the perimeter.”

Leah shook her head. “I don’t think they would have bothered with this whole structure if all they needed was the door. It’s just a UPDO set up to guard another UPDO.” She pointed at the wall. “The door might be invulnerable, but the wall isn’t.”

“We’ve got knives, but no shovels. It’ll take forever to dig ourselves out with knives.”

“We might not be able to dig out, but what about C-4?”

Jamie chuckled. “That’d be great if anyone but Sergeant Benson carried it.” He motioned toward a grenade on his belt. “This is the best we can do.”

Leah nodded grimly. “All frags?”

“Yep.”

“Not enough boom. I’m concerned that we can’t hear Emily. That suggests this is a tight enough seal to keep air from getting in.” She drew her knife. “Unless you have a better idea, we might as well start digging.”

Jamie pulled his knife out of the sheath. “A couple of inches from the door. That’s our best bet. That’s where it’s thinnest.”

Leah jammed her knife into the dirt wall. “As long as we have air, we’ll dig.”

“What if we don’t?”

“No point in worrying about a scenario we can’t fix. Dig now. Worry later.”

An inch into excavating an air hole, Leah’s knife bounced off something hard. She pulled the blade back and frowned at the chipped edge, then put her finger into the hole.

“Something cool, smooth, and hard in here,” she explained, pulling her finger out. “It’s not dirt.”

Jamie peered into the hole. “It looks like polished stone or metal. They didn’t build places that way, did they?”

“Emily’s the expert.” Leah sighed. “I’m pretty sure nothing about this place is normal. It might be part of the ghost-related design. If you had access to metal for walls, why use dirt on the interior?”

She glanced at her knife, the implications of the hidden metal layer sinking in. Their options were dwindling.

“Then you’ve given up on the individual UPDO theory? We’re back to the entire place being a UPDO?”

Leah shook her head. “The uneven perimeter still makes me think there’s a central room to access, but now I accept that there are multiple UPDOs, including this door. The problem is, we don’t know how to get through this door or the walls, and if we can’t get out, it makes sense to focus on trying to find the UPDO responsible for the ghosts.”

Jamie sheathed his knife. “We could try digging another hole.”

“I’d rather not waste more energy and time. There’s no reason to suspect the metal layer isn’t everywhere, and the dirt’s likely thicker elsewhere.” Leah frowned at the wall in the fork’s center. “We’d be better served by trying to figure out how the bunker is linked to the ghosts.”

Jamie nodded.

His neutral expression worried Leah. She took a deep breath. “It doesn’t smell great down here, but it doesn’t smell different from before, and I’m not having trouble breathing. There’s either enough air to last for a while, or fresh air’s somehow coming in.”

“I was thinking that myself.” He tilted his head. “Do you hear that?”

Leah concentrated. Light taps came from the door.

“Yes. I do. You were right earlier!” Leah frowned and crept toward the door. She rested the side of her helmet and her hand on the door, listening to the taps and sighing in relief when she recognized the pattern.

R U ALIVE?

Smiling, she tapped the door with the tip of her knife in a rhythmic pattern. “It’s Morse code.”

“You know Morse code?” Jamie asked. “I missed that. That’s lucky.”

“You didn’t need to go through my personnel file like you did everybody else in the unit. We’re luckier that somebody else knows it.”

“The Army never saw fit to teach me. I worked with a few diddy-boppers early on, but they’re a dying breed in all branches.”

“I sent ‘2 ALIVE.’” Leah waited for the reply, holding her breath. The quiet staccato taps were the focus of all her attention.

“‘C4? TOOLS NO GO.’ If I didn’t know Benson was at Legacy, I’d think it was him. At least we know somebody is trying to get us out.” She frowned and tapped another message, saying the words aloud for Jamie’s benefit. “DOC OK?”

She sighed again when they responded. “She’s fine. Only bruised.” She tapped her response and narrated it aloud, “GO C4 IN FIVE MINS DOOR AND CLOSE WALLS. WILL TAP IN 10 MINS.”

She checked her watch and motioned toward the fork. They jogged that way and dropped behind one wall to wait.

“I didn’t think anyone in the infantry platoon knew Morse,” Jamie remarked.

“I won’t complain that somebody has skills that didn’t make it into their personnel file. You used to need to know Morse to get some civilian radio licenses. I don’t know if they still have that rule.”

“We didn’t hear any yelling before. Will we be able to tell if the C-4 works?”

“If we can hear someone tapping Morse, we will hear C-4. Either it works or it doesn’t. We will check back in with them and go from there if it doesn’t.”

Jamie nodded and stared at his watch until a muffled bang broke the silence in the bunker. The walls and door didn’t shake. “Damn it.”

Leah grimaced. “That was far less impressive than I hoped.” She started a timer on her watch and glared at the door. “I told them to hit the doors and the walls. It’s a good thing we didn’t waste our time digging out.”

“You really think this place is a perfect bunker? Maybe they didn’t use enough C-4.”

Leah motioned to the front chamber. “When you shot the door and the bullets hit the wall, it threw dirt into the air. We heard that sound, but the doors and walls didn’t shake. Our UPDO door might prove the most dangerous threat on this mission.”

“We could tell them to bring heavy machine guns,” Jamie suggested. “Or up the amount of explosive.”

“Then we risk turning a controlled explosion into a massive blast that might kill us both and collapse half of this bunker. And if we’re wrong about how this works, we might free more ghosts.” She shook her head. “If rifle fire and moderate amounts of C-4 aren’t enough to make a dent, we’ll have to play this really carefully.”

She waited with her arms crossed, scowling at the door from cover, the headlamp illuminating her face. Jamie stood beside her as she tried to devise a better plan, but the plans required coordinating the precise application of explosives or pinpoint bombing using Morse code. That was impractical.

Leah approached the front door and arrived as her watch alarm beeped. She put her head and hand against the door and waited for the tapping.

“‘C4 NO GO.’” She tapped a message, speaking it aloud again. “LOCKDOWN PERIMETER. BCCS THREAT. ‘HOURLY CHECKS?’ YES. ‘TWO HOURS.’ SEE U IN TWO.”

Leah stepped away from the door and set the alarm on her watch. “That’s that. I don’t have a suggestion for Obi short of having the Apache fly down here and unleash everything it has on the front of this place, but that runs into the same problem as throwing more C-4 at it. I want to neutralize the UPDO, and I’d rather not be buried alive in the process.”

Jamie took a couple of slow, deep breaths. “Are you having any trouble breathing yet?”

Leah shook her head. “None. Let’s hope it stays that way.”

“You put them on a check-in schedule.”

Leah nodded. “We’re trapped for now. That doesn’t mean we can’t complete our mission. I won’t waste daylight sitting around doing nothing.”

“What if we can’t get out by nightfall?”

“We hope the ghosts stay outside.”

Leah finished their next check-in with the outside and stepped back, shaking her head. “Besides Emily trying to push and pull it open, they’ve tried shovels and the mini-backhoe. They’re running into the same problem we encountered, harder inner layers. Nothing’s working.”

Jamie sat beside his backpack on the other side of the chamber. They’d re-explored the bunker, not finding anything more but confirming the words and numbers.

“I don’t want to tell them it’s impossible.” Leah sighed. “But the available evidence suggests just that. Maybe this place can only be opened from inside.”

Jamie frowned. “Sposato’s people dug out the walls and the door, so not every square inch of this place is invulnerable.”

“I understand that, but the BCCS and Drake targeted this place for a reason. They likely understood what would happen when people opened it, at least to some extent. I presume the plan was for our team to open the door and release the ghosts.”

She looked over her shoulder, her headlamp beam illuminating the east alcove’s ciphertext. “The plan’s inherent limits bother me. It’ll be inconvenient, but not impossible, to lock this place down. If the zone increase doesn’t speed up, it’ll be years before this place is a major threat.”

“Assassination. That was what you suggested earlier.”

“Sure, but is it that straightforward? Would they give up one or more UPDOs to get us?”

Jamie shrugged. “Maybe they don’t care, as long as it takes years. Or it could be symbolic. Yorktown has soaked in triumphant and non-triumphant feelings for centuries. You could argue America was born during that final bloody siege. This could be as straightforward as Drake wanting to mess with us by rubbing our noses in an American defeat at Yorktown.”

Leah frowned. “Our air is okay, so that’s one less thing to worry about. It’s obvious that we won’t get out of here anytime soon, and it would take forever to tap everything out. We might as well revisit the ciphers.” She frowned. “First, let’s write them all down. I don’t want to die because my phone ran out of power.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Leah’s early missions had taught her an important lesson that was being reinforced in the dark bunker. She took computers and the internet for granted.

She’d joined the Army in the post-internet age and was used to having access to those resources on missions. The military paid lip service to the idea of troops operating without silicon helpers, but every aspect of US defense used computers.

It was no different after she left the Army. On most missions, she commanded dozens of skilled intelligence and research hunters who used specialized programs and possessed specialized knowledge about niche corners of the internet. Her missions assumed computer support.

Therefore, she wasn’t concerned about breaking centuries-old codes on most days. The idea that a basic substitution cipher could challenge her team was laughable. Trapped in a dark bunker and relying on pen and paper, Leah got a new appreciation of the cryptological skills of people in the pre-computer age.

The harsh reality was, she and Jamie couldn’t brute-force their way through the ciphers. They’d been reduced to writing notes and keeping track of decoding attempts, illuminated by headlamps and flashlights.

Between backup batteries and the efficiency of their light sources, there was little risk of running out. The batteries in their phones might die, so she’d turned them off after they copied the ciphertext off the pictures. They hadn’t brought night-vision gear, and it wouldn’t have helped them read pen scribbles on paper.

Jamie rested his head on the wall. Notebook pages spread out in front of him. They’d been bouncing around theories but kept running into the fundamental problem that plagued all decryption of unknown materials: knowing when they’d succeeded.

“Okay, this is annoying, but I think we’re onto something.” He gestured at the pages. “I’m confident it’s a double Caesar substitution with the letter value displacement being the absolute value of the difference between the numeric values of the first and second letters in the name of the location where the battle was fought.”

Leah groaned. “This hurts my head. We have computers for this, and we’re grinding through these like it’s 1781.”

“Think of it this way, Leah. We’re practicing skills for an EMP-stricken battlefield.” He laughed and started scribbling letters on a new piece of paper. “You’re right. Whoever set these ciphers up was insane. It’d be hard for people who didn’t understand what they were looking at to figure this out.”

Leah eyed a piece of paper filled with jumbled letters. “This took tons of effort in 1781. I wonder why they bothered when the average person couldn’t get in without UPDO resistance. It could not have been more common back then than it is now. It feels like massive overkill.”

“They did it for the same reason we check IDs and have door codes inside SCIFs in EM-hardened buildings. They couldn’t be sure, and somebody could have brought somebody else along. Encrypting important intel and compartmentalization is no different today. The tools change, not the concepts.”

Leah frowned at her notepad and gestured at Jamie’s pages. “We know what they were trying to do. Okay. Then we can figure out what they were trying to hide.”

“Is this what going crazy feels like?” Leah asked, staring at the paper. “I’m now grateful I didn’t start off in a cryptographic-intensive MOS, and I’m very thankful to all those enlisted who summarized this intel for me over the years.” She shook her head and gestured at her paper and Jamie’s notepad. “This makes no sense.”

Applying the cipher and Jamie’s careful translation produced a series of understandable Latin words. The problem was that when they were translated and put together, they didn’t form sentences. There was another layer of the code they did not understand. Leah glared at her current attempt, trying to figure out the pattern. “Are you sure you translated these correctly?”

“That’s a complicated question,” Jamie replied. “It’s hard to say. Latin lacks some of the grammatical features of English, making one-to-one translation almost impossible. All translations, even of closely related languages, introduce an element of uncertainty.”

Leah sighed. “I knew you were going to say that. Come on, Universal Translator. It’s your time to shine.”

He gestured at the paper. “These would not have been understandable at the word level if we needed more work at the cipher level. I’m confident the individual Latin words are correct.”

“The sentences make zero sense,” Leah complained. “It’s like somebody spewing random words.” She frowned. “Phrases linked to a book? If you go that far, you could use a onetime pad.” She shook her head. “No, it’s not advanced cryptography.”

“On the other hand…” Jamie stared at the paper.

“What? If they used a onetime pad, we’re screwed.”

“There are repeating words here, like ‘souls.’ That makes me think we’re close to an understandable translation. If we assume certain things, like inserting ‘the’ when possible, we can create strings of eight words,” Jamie said. “I’m not sure if that means anything, but it’s hard to miss the pattern.” He gestured at the mass of ciphertext. “There’s no punctuation, so it’s hard to know where the line separation is, and a few run together.”

Leah tilted her head. “This is your area more than mine, but we found these lines in distinct groups from the encrypted text on walls in the north, south, east, and west locations.”

Jamie snapped his head toward her. “North, south, east, west.”

“Yes?” Her breath caught. “What about them?”

“It’s not universal that cardinal directions go in that order in languages, but it would have been that way for the people who set this place up.” Jamie looked at the translated text and scribbled on his notepad. “What if it doesn’t make any sense because it’s supposed to go together differently? What if we’re supposed to alternate the words from the different alcoves and rotate based on the direction associated with the original ciphertext?”

Leah pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s another way of protecting their information. Their agents would know the theory and have a better chance of putting it all together, especially if they were briefed. Not a onetime pad, but an easy algorithm to remember.”

“That’s what I think.” Jamie finished writing and held up the pad. “The resulting sentences work, based on north-south-east-west word order.”

Leah gestured for him to continue. “What do they say?”

He cleared his throat. “It pains to bind dead souls in revenge. We must stop the scourge of false freedom. The proper world’s royal order must be maintained. These false patriots are nothing more than barbarians. Apollo’s rays will push back the restless souls. The touch of night reveals the bright truth. The amulet binds all the restless dead here. After the loyal soldiers have spilled traitors’ blood, use your noble spirit to release the door.”

Leah jumped to her feet and clapped once. “That proves it. There’s a UPDO amulet that controls the ghosts. There’s also a door.”

Jamie frowned and stood. “It mentioned spilling blood. I don’t like the sound of that.”

“We’ve got a dead worker and a wounded sergeant,” Leah replied. “I think that was an operational order about letting the ghosts kill people first, but even it was, blood’s been spilled. We just need to find the door to the amulet.”

“We don’t know how to control it!”

“If there’s another clue, it’ll be in that room. That’s all we need to know for now.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Jamie rapped his knuckles against a dirt wall at the midpoint of the north passage. He didn’t find anything, like he had not found anything in the last several hours of searching for the hidden door in the alcoves or the front chamber.

He curled his hand into a fist and took a deep breath. His confidence in his decryption and translation fueled his frustration. They’d solved the puzzle but found no hint of the hidden door referenced in the message. It was like the universe was mocking them.

He looked at Leah, who was checking the opposite wall. They’d only taken breaks to check in with Morse exchanges. They’d learned that the rest of the unit had excavated more of the bunker, though they had not found a way inside. After being in the bunker all day, Jamie was no longer worried about the air supply. A more troubling threat drew close, one that had worried him from the beginning.

“We’re running out of time, Leah,” he said, checking his watch. “To be specific, we’re running out of daylight.”

Leah frowned. “We’re close to getting out of here. We have to find the hidden door that leads to the amulet.” She sighed. “I reminded the unit that the sun hurts ghosts and to avoid the chill zone after sundown during our last check-in.” She squatted and ran her fingers over the bottom of the wall. “That means we might be camping in here overnight on our own.”

“That’s my concern.” Jamie mirrored her movements. “I’m worried about what will happen to us when the sun goes down. There would be no reason to mention secret doors and amulets if the amulet wasn’t in here. The ghosts show up in the forest, but they’re being controlled or brought here by a UPDO in the bunker. They might appear in here.”

“I’d say we don’t know that they will, but we can’t base an operational plan on hope.” Leah knelt and pulled her backpack off. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to weaponize the sunlight since we decoded the message. It doesn’t do us any good since we don’t have access to it.” She motioned around. “Since they’re not here yet and this place is dark, it’s more likely the time rather than the sunlight that’s important.”

She opened her backpack and fished out a tan pouch the size of a small lunchbox: an MRE. “It’s been a while since we’ve hydrated or eaten. We can’t fight ghosts if we’re dehydrated and hungry. We should eat while we have the chance.”

Jamie gave her a dubious look. Leah was stalling. He understood why, but dodging the question wouldn’t make the problem disappear.

She opened the pouch and slid a green heater out, along with long, thin cardboard boxes. After tearing the top of the heater pouch, she opened one of the larger cardboard boxes and retrieved the beige food pouch inside.

Jamie couldn’t read the label from where he sat. “You’re serious?”

“We haven’t eaten anything since this morning,” Leah replied. “We haven’t been ruck-marching in the mountains, but we’re not sitting at desks typing on computers. You know this as well as I do.”

She slid the food pouch into the heater pouch and poured water into the bottom from her canteen. Set up out of the way, she shoved the entire assembly into the cardboard box that had held the food pouch. With a smile, she folded over the top of the heater pouch and set it against the wall.

“Cheese tortellini in tomato sauce,” Leah read off the box. She waggled her eyebrows and pulled the plastic spoon from the main pouch. “Not like what Grandma used to make, but it’ll do. Hunger’s the best spice and all that.” She pulled out a salt packet and slipped it into a pocket. “If we encounter ghosts, remind me to try that salt.”

Jamie took a swig from his canteen. He wasn’t hungry, so he didn’t go through all the trouble of setting up a meal, but he munched on the cracker after spreading the peanut butter packet on it. When he thought about it, hunting ghosts killed his appetite. Hunting all UPDOs and UPDPs did.

No wonder he was always ravenous after a mission. He never ate enough. “It’d be nice if you could kill a ghost with salt. I think Emily was reaching there.” He gestured at Leah’s spoon. “I’ve run into people who claim a Ranger once killed a terrorist using an MRE spoon.”

Leah laughed. “Before I switched to this command, I might have questioned that. It’d be a strange scenario where he couldn’t use his gun and knife, but now, who knows? Maybe our Ranger was carrying a UPDO MRE spoon infused with the frustration of a hundred years of hungry soldiers and found it was a much deadlier weapon than his knife.”

Jamie chuckled and took another bite, the break from the search allowing his frustration to bleed away. “I left the Army to join an ultra-secret ghost- and gremlin-hunting unit, but I’m still eating MREs in caves. The more things change, the more they stay the same.”

“It’s a bunker, not a cave.” Leah eyed the heater box. “Or a fancy redoubt. I wouldn’t want to annoy Emily by being nonspecific in the historical terminology.” She rested her head against the wall and sighed. “We shouldn’t be here. My rule might be ill-founded.”

Jamie frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m saying I should have split us up so both senior officers weren’t trapped when something went badly.”

Jamie shrugged. “I’d love to agree with you, but it all comes back to the same restrictions. We don’t have enough resistant personnel, but I won’t complain if you don’t take as many risks.”

Leah’s gaze flicked toward him. “Because I’m your commanding officer or because of your old feelings for me?”

Jamie smiled. “I can’t separate those.”

“You should.”

“There’s nothing old about the feelings.”

Leah frowned. “Don’t say things because you think we won’t make it out of here. I hate that defeatist garbage.”

Jamie laughed. “As if I haven’t told you before.”

“You have me there.” Leah took a drink from her canteen. “We will get out of here. I don’t care if I have to kick a thousand ghosts. I’m not dying in a haunted bunker.”

“You ever think this was meant to be?”

Leah frowned. “Us getting trapped in a haunted bunker, or us dying in a haunted bunker?”

“No, no. Not that.” Jamie gestured between them. “Us working together.”

She gave him an uneasy look. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know.” Jamie shrugged. “Before I switched to the USLC, I would have laughed at the idea, but think about it. Resistance is so rare that we’ve been running this unit for half a year, and we haven’t found any viable candidates with resistance. The task force didn’t do much better. Yet, somehow, you and I are both resistant? What are the chances of that?”

“It’s not like unlikely things never happen. Some people have been hit by lightning multiple times, and there’s a guy who survived both atomic bombings.” Leah looked away and sighed. “Are you trying to say it was fate that we ended up working together?”

“I don’t know. I honestly don’t. But I can’t pretend I haven’t thought about it.” Jamie shrugged. “Before I had to evacuate a building to save people from a cursed drum, I would have dismissed it as coincidence, but it’s harder for me to blow off things like fate and destiny these days.” He took a deep breath. “I’m not like you, Leah. I’ve accepted that our job is finding and containing magic and cursed objects, no matter what we call them.”

Leah stared at him. “That doesn’t translate into destiny or fate existing.”

He scoffed. “Mummies, gremlins, haunted bunkers, and cursed muskets. Every mission we run proves the world isn’t as small as we thought it was.”

“So, we have no free will? We’re all puppets?”

“That’s not what I’m saying. You know what I’m talking about.”

“Yes, I know what you’re thinking and talking about.” Leah frowned. “You’ve made your feelings clear, and yes, the regulations are different from when we were in the Army, but what happens if I have to make the hard call? Do you ever think about that?”

Jamie stared at her. “You admit you still have feelings for me?”

Leah shook her head. “I’m talking hypotheticals.”

“The woman I admire won’t lose my admiration by doing the right thing. You know me better than that.”

Leah locked eyes with him. “Even if doing the right thing kills you? I will always think of the mission and the country's safety first. In this unit, that’s more important than ever.”

“I’d be a car salesman if I wanted a safe job. Everybody dies. Nobody gets off this rock alive.” He patted his chest. “I’ve lived my life so that when it’s my time, I won’t have any regrets. That’s part of why I won’t give up on you now that I have another shot.”

Leah opened the heater, avoiding looking at Jamie. She extricated the food pouch and tore it open, then ate a mouthful of MRE cheese tortellini with the spoon.

“I’m serious, Leah,” Jamie said. “I mean every last damned word.”

“So do I.” Leah eyed the pouch. “I haven’t had this one before. It’s not half bad.”

Jamie frowned, not liking her changing the subject. They were trapped together, and time was running out. He had never assumed he’d die on a mission, regardless of the situation, but he was not guaranteed to survive.

“Do we have a plan to search for the amulet other than what we’ve been doing?” he asked, deciding there wasn’t any point in pressing Leah if she didn’t want to talk about her feelings. He needed her focused. “At this rate, we’ll run out of time, and there’s a good chance the ghosts will find us.”

Leah nodded. “Get the salt packet from your MRE. I have a feeling we’ll need to test that theory soon.” She stuck the spoon back into the tortellini. “For now, you should eat more than the cracker. You’ll need the energy if we’re punching ghosts.” She took another bite. “We know there’s a hidden door. I will search until I’m dead. That’s the plan.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

After finishing their meal, Leah and Jamie returned to searching the walls. They’d swept back around to the western alcove at the far end of the bunker. Leah shined her light and ran her hand over the wall. Jamie followed up with the blacklight.

Despite their careful efforts, they found no hidden door. Leah was beginning to wonder if there was one. The clues could be an elaborate trap. She wouldn’t put it past men who had forced ghosts to linger on a battlefield for centuries to serve their petty grudges.

Jamie hadn’t brought up his feelings or relationships since the break. Leah appreciated that. She didn’t want to dismiss him, but there was no point in focusing on their future if they didn’t survive the night. When there were no civilian lives on the line, survival came first.

“Fifteen minutes to sunset.” Leah moved her flashlight in a circle, the beam dancing below the light from her headlamp. “Not that we’ll see any difference in here. I don’t know what we’re missing, but I’ll admit to being frustrated.”

“I’ve been thinking about that.”

“Frustration?”

“No, sunlight,” Jamie said. “You pointed it out earlier. There’s no sunlight here anyway, except in the front chamber when the door is open. If the ghosts manifest in darkness regardless of the time of day, they would have come for us already. What if the door keeps them out?”

“You’re thinking that was why it closed?” Leah didn’t look convinced. “I’d love it if that were true.”

Leah spotted a shiny pebble and tugged on it, pulling out a worn coin. A quick brush confirmed the coin was gold and featured a king’s face on one side. On the other side was a Latin inscription.

She handed it to Jamie. “This better not be encrypted.”

“Let traitors be punished for their sins,” he translated. “I’m not an expert on old British coins, but we don’t need Emily to know this is a BCCS special.”

“It’s like rubbing our noses in it. I’m surprised we missed it before, but it might be a hint to search here.” She squinted at the wall. “Or it could have been in some poor bastard’s pocket when he was buried alive in here. His bones and clothes decayed and the only thing left was gold.”

“Wouldn’t the gold go away, too? The coin could be a UPDO.”

Leah shook her head. “Gold doesn’t oxidize. Objects sat in Egyptian tombs for thousands of years and only accumulated dust before archaeologists found it.”

She killed her lights to run her hands over the wall in the area. Jamie slowly passed his blacklight back and forth near the spot where she’d found the coin, but they didn’t see anything new.

Worry was weighing her down. She’d understood that she might die when they’d asked her to take over the unit. Even if the nature of her service had changed and she wasn’t in the regular military anymore, she’d accepted that risk.

Her death didn’t scare her. Jamie dying for her did. His speech about destiny and fate had fueled her concerns about him choosing self-sacrifice. She tried to tell herself that he’d joined Legacy Operations Command of his own free will to protect the country from a unique threat, but he might have refused to join if a different commander ran the unit.

Leah’s jaw tightened. She was grateful that the dark hid her expression. She didn’t want somebody she cared about getting hurt. She told herself his feelings were one-sided, but that wasn’t true and hadn’t been for months.

The best thing she could do was to find the amulet and use it to get out of the bunker. The amulet must also work as a key. That justified the complex ciphers used to conceal the clues about its location.

“It has to be here.” Leah punched the wall. “They left clues about everything else. What were they playing at?”

“There could be a standard design or theory at work,” Jamie suggested. He turned to the opposite wall with the blacklight. “The agents would have expected a Caesar cipher, and if they were supposed to come here, they would have been given information on the keys to help them figure everything out.”

Leah scoffed. “The clues don’t feel like that. Those people set up time bombs to go off decades if not centuries later, with no consideration for who might get hurt. What if they had been wrong? What if the British retook the colonies? Would they kill their own people?”

“They might have visited these places to disarm them in that scenario.” Jamie shrugged. “It’s no use worrying about their logic now. Whoever made this place is long dead.” He grimaced. “They might even be among the ghosts haunting it.”

“We need to understand their logic since we figured out everything else but still haven’t found the door. I refuse to believe there isn’t one.” Leah kicked the wall, knocking away dirt. She knelt to shine her light into the indentation. There was nothing there but more dirt.

“We’ve been over every inch of this place. It’s not that big. I get where you’re coming from, but maybe somebody sealed the door decades ago and reburied this bunker.”

“I’m seriously rethinking the Apache option,” Leah admitted. “Along with bringing in a platoon to take down the walls with pickaxes and jackhammers. Sposato’s people were uncomfortable, but they weren’t attacked during the day.”

Jamie turned off the blacklight and turned his headlamp on. “It’ll be hard to cover up an operation like that.”

“We’re in the middle of the forest,” Leah countered. “Same as always. Gas or chemical explosion story combined with Legacy Shield when we’re done.” She squinted into the passage that led to the chamber. “We’ll have to hope your theory that the ghosts won’t invade the bunker is right. Otherwise, it’s going to be a long night.”

Jamie checked his watch. “We’re almost out of time, but we’ll hear them before we see them.”

“Not necessarily. We don’t have enough data points to predict their behavior past that they appear at night.”

“When we saw them, they weren’t coming out of the bunker,” Jamie noted. “They came from the forest.”

“The worker was killed in the pit. See what I mean? There are too many differences from incident to incident.”

Leah pocketed the coin. Right now, the best plan was to fight the ghosts with tiny packets of salt. Leah pulled hers out of her pocket, tore it open, and sprinkled it across the passage.

“Add yours to this,” Leah directed. “If we run into a ghost, we’ll see if can get past the salt.”

Jamie gave her a pained look but retrieved his packet and added it to her thin trail. It wasn’t an impressive barrier.

She killed her watch alarm four seconds before it beeped. “It’s sunset.” She looked around. “We have a check-in soon, too. We should make our way back to the front. I did tell them to withdraw immediately if they encountered ghosts.”

Jamie stared into the darkness, using his headlamp and flashlight for illumination. “Every mission, we’re issuing orders no one’s ever had to give before. ‘Retreat in the face of ghosts. Corner that gremlin. Run decoy against that mummy.’”

“Forty years from now, will there be a new unit head complaining about using old rules to fight new UPDO threats?” Leah crept down the passage. “Or will they have UPDO weapons that work consistently?”

She’d half-expected a regiment of ghosts to materialize and come after them in the bunker. Now she wondered if Jamie was correct. Taking the ciphers at face value, the amulet was linked to the ghosts. The bunker’s creators might have designed it to keep the ghosts out, protecting them when they returned to disarm it.

Leah nodded, satisfied with that scenario. They still couldn’t get out, but they weren’t starving, and if no ghosts attacked them, they’d find the hidden door and make their way out, given enough time and help from outside.

Her smile turned into a frown when marching footsteps echoed through the passage. She exchanged alarmed looks with Jamie. “This is one time I really, really wish you had been right.”

The marching stopped, and glowing misty strands formed farther down the passage and condensed into a spectral Redcoat. She killed her headlamp, and Jamie followed suit. The ghost’s glow made him easy to see.

It’s too late, rebels, the Redcoat called. I can see you. He advanced, lifting his musket. “A woman and a man in strange clothing carrying odd weapons? Spies deserve the hangman’s noose. Death to all traitors! I must defend this place from the rebels. I must complete my mission.”

Jamie dropped his backpack. “I’ll charge and tackle him. You run past.”

She whispered back, “I can’t get out, so there’s no point in you sacrificing yourself.”

What are you two conspiring ‘bout? The Redcoat brought his weapon to his shoulder. The woman might escape the noose. Offer yourself up, cur, and save her. It’s your only choice.

“He might have a point.”

“I don’t take orders from ghosts unless they’re higher-ranking than me.”

Mist flowed down the passage and condensed into more Redcoats. Whatever plan Jamie envisioned wouldn’t work with dead men clogging the passage.

Leah looked over her shoulder. The enemy, through design or mistake, had left their rear clear.

“Stay low,” she whispered. “We’re going to run the other way past the salt.”

“I can tackle them all when they’re close together and bring them down,” Jamie suggested.

“No. That’s an order, Lieutenant. Prepare to follow me in tactical retreat if my first plan doesn’t work.”

Two ghosts knelt so another pair could aim their muskets over them in the cramped passage. Leah wouldn’t gamble on surviving a volley in such close quarters. She raised her arms above her head and waved them. “I am an officer of the United States Legacy Operations Command. I demand to speak with another officer.”

Quiet, spy whore, the first ghost replied.

Jamie flinched. “That could have gone better.”

“When I drop my arms,” Leah whispered, “run the opposite way.”

Jamie nodded. “I’ll follow your lead.”

Leah dropped her arms and pivoted, and they sprinted down the passage. Like the previous night, only the muzzle’s bright flash signaled the shots. Dirt flew from the walls nearby, marking the musket balls’ strikes. The volley didn’t hit Leah or Jamie.

They charged around the corner and stumbled to a stop. Another squad of Redcoats waited around the bend. They lifted their weapons and advanced with their bayonets before them.

Death to traitors! a ghost shouted in their minds.

The other ghost squad advanced, stepping over the salt line.

Leah gritted her teeth. She needed to come up with a plan that didn’t involve Jamie sacrificing himself to buy her another couple of minutes. She yanked out her pistol and emptied her magazine, blasting through ghosts who stomped forward in a shoulder-to-shoulder bayonet advance. They didn’t react.

She holstered her pistol. The ghosts from the first passage walked around the corner, advancing with their bayonets at the ready.

“I’m sorry, Leah. I should have done a better job of protecting you.”

“Don’t talk like that. We’re not dead yet.” Leah frowned. The salt trick had amounted to nothing. She’d assumed the clue about Apollo meant the ghosts only came at night. The lack of ghosts in the darkened bunker during the day supported the interpretation, as did the timing of the worker’s death and first ghostly encounter.

What if there was more to it?

Apollo’s rays will push back the restless dead.

Leah yanked her blacklight out of the pouch, praying that fate meant something more than meeting Jamie before dying. “Please work.”

She aimed the blacklight at the nearest ghost’s head. His head burst apart into misty tendrils, and his spectral body fell to the ground. His body dissolved into a thick mist. “I think I killed him.”

“Can you kill a ghost?” Jamie asked.

She shifted her aim to a second ghost and shined the light at his chest. The blacklight tore a hole through it, and he dropped. His body dissolved to join the mist from the original. The other ghosts slowed as if they were afraid.

“Hell, yeah!” Jamie yelled. “We can kill ghosts.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Jamie spun toward the rear ghosts and carved through their ranks with his blacklight. Leah jerked her light from target to target until glowing mist covered the ground. They were winning. The situation had gone from inevitable death to victory in under a minute.

“I can’t believe that worked.” Leah chuckled. “The only problem is, we have to be close enough that they can shoot at us.”

Jamie shrugged. “Does it matter?” He gestured at the mist. “We’re ankle-deep in ghost guts.”

Leah nodded. “Okay. Then we can work our way back to…” She brought up her blacklight with a frown. More Redcoats marched down the passages on both sides, many ranks deep, though the narrow space limited them to two ghosts per row.

Leah took a deep breath and waited for the first ghost to walk into range, finishing him off with a blacklight beam to the head. The other ghosts charged her, and she methodically carved through them.

Jamie handled the ghosts coming from the opposite side. His heart thundered. Their earlier victory was slipping away.

“Even if we assume a one-to-one ratio between the deaths here and the ghosts, we can win,” Leah pointed out as if she sensed his mood. “When they get close enough to take a shot, we can blacklight them.”

That confidence fueled her for another few minutes of ghost destruction until thin strands of mist swirled from the ground cover on both sides and flowed into new bodies. Jamie and Leah swept their blacklights over them, but nothing happened. The latest bodies thickened and gained color.

“Reinforcements,” Leah concluded. “That’s annoying.”

“There could be a limit.” Jamie sighed. “We can do this. We just have to keep them away from us.”

Leah zapped another pair of ghosts and motioned down the passage where they’d laid down their salt line. “We should make for the front chamber. It’s more defensible.”

A ghost in the second passage managed to escape Jamie’s attention long enough to lunge. His bayonet almost reached Jamie’s chest before the man exploded into mist under his blacklight.

Leah led Jamie into the first passage. A new squad of Redcoats charged toward them with their muskets at ready. Leah and Jamie stayed low, avoiding the first musket volley, then jogged straight toward a squad that knelt and formed a bayonet wall. Jamie and Leah’s blacklights jumped among the bodies and heads, blowing them apart until fog extended halfway down the passage.

More ghosts poured toward them in two long columns snaking back to the start of the passage. Leah picked off the first few ranks with her blacklight. Jamie bounced his light around the ghosts’ heads.

“We’ll be overwhelmed at this rate,” Leah stated. It was a painful reality. They had a near-perfect weapon that didn’t require reloading, but they might lose to superior numbers.

Leah and Jamie ran down the passage, waving their blacklights to down more ghosts, though Redcoats more than ten yards away just slowed. They passed their latest victims, seeing the mist solidifying into ghosts again.

Reinforcements from the other passage boiled around the curve. The only positive Jamie could see was lower enemy numbers in that direction. Leah whipped her blacklight and forth without the ghosts blowing apart, though they slowed for a moment.

She grunted. “Something’s wrong. They’re close enough that they should be destroyed.”

Jamie let his beam linger on the head of a ghost. The blacklight pushed the head into mist, and the ghost’s body dropped and added to the mist a moment later. “Minimal contact time. We can’t just wave them around. Half a second, maybe?”

Leah and Jamie both dropped to one knee and aimed their blacklights in opposite directions. Musket volleys tore into the nearby wall. One ball passed so close to Jamie’s ear he felt the wind of its passage. The pair kept their composure, shifting their lights from ghost to ghost, adding to the spreading mist.

Jamie waved his blacklight back and forth. That didn’t destroy the ghosts, but it slowed their advance. That gave Leah the opportunity to line up her beam and tear ghosts apart. Their mist rejoined the fog filling the passage, and the ghosts on both sides slowed their advance. That made them easier targets for Jamie and Leah.

They downed a group of enemies, then pivoted together to take out the Redcoats on the opposite side before spinning back to end another threat. The dewy fog in the passage was now dense enough to hide the glow of distant ghosts.

Jamie’s hand tightened on his blacklight until it creaked and threatened to crack. He peered into the mist, looking for more ghosts. “This is endless.”

A new ghost stepped out of the mist and brought up his musket. Leah and Jamie both struck him with their blacklights, and he exploded into mist.

“I recognize that one from earlier,” Leah declared.

“You do?” Jamie asked, sounding surprised. “You can tell them apart in the brief time before we light them up?”

“Yes. He has a distinctive face, even with missing eyes. That means we’re stalling them. It’s not just that new ghosts reinforce the ones we destroy. They’re regenerating. It’s like punches. The effects last longer, but it’s not a battle of attrition.”

Jamie tore apart more reformed ghosts, lingering long enough to finish them. “Do we have a plan other than spending the entire night hoping one of these guys doesn’t get lucky with a shot?”

Leah nodded toward the western alcove. “We’ll withdraw.”

Jamie was confused as to why they’d give up their advance, but he trusted her. He nodded and nailed more ghosts before jogging back down the passage, shifting his blacklight from target to target with increasingly precise timing.

Leah knelt near the bend before the alcove and pulled off her backpack. “Cover me. I want to try something.”

Jamie crouched and glanced in both directions. Every ghost that stepped out of the fog lasted less than a second. Leah rifled through her backpack and pulled out a Ziploc bag containing the four barrier candles and their metal stands.

“I thought Emily had those,” Jamie remarked.

Leah shook her head. “She asked to carry them, but I decided I would. I almost did. That could have been fatal.”

She placed two in the bend in the hallway and pulled out a lighter. Their overwhelmingly sweet stench filled Jamie’s nostrils.

He concentrated on picking off the increasing number of ghosts stepping out of the fog. Leah scrambled away from the first bend. The mist stopped flowing past the barrier candles, forming a solid wall. Ghost faces and limbs poked out of the fog but didn’t move past the invisible field marked by the candles.

Jamie grinned and put his remaining effort into ghost headshots on the other side while Leah set up and lit the other two barrier candles. A ghost charged out of the mist and lunged to bayonet Leah. He only made it a few feet before Jamie removed his head.

Leah lit the second set of barrier candles and scooted back on her hands and knees. She took a deep breath. “These won’t last forever, but they’ll let us catch our breath.” She wiped sweat from her forehead.

Jamie looked at the fog walls. The angry faces popping in and out of the fog unnerved him. Mist strands continued to form bodies to rebuild the ghost army.

“This is beyond cruel.” Leah grimaced. “They still have will, and they’re intelligent. It would be less cruel if Drake’s people had killed them as sacrifices rather than binding them here for an eternal battle they’ll never understand they lost.”

“No offense, but I’m far more worried about the two living Legacy hunters than the dead British guys,” Jamie said. “They would have died by now, anyway.”

Leah sighed. “I understand, but it’s more proof of BCCS’ disgusting history. What Emily and the RP found suggests the mummy was a volunteer. Do you really think these soldiers understood what was going on or what would happen to them?” She shook her head. “But you’re right. Our priority is survival. At least we have ranged weapons that work and viable defenses.”

“Those candles won’t burn forever,” Jamie protested. “We need to concentrate on finding a way out.”

Leah narrowed her eyes and pointed at a new ghost. Jamie looked that way. The latest ghost didn’t wear a red coat or carry a musket. His hardhat, reflector jacket, jeans, and denim shirt suggested a modern line of work and birth. Despite the pools of darkness in his eye sockets, his face was familiar. “Is that who I think it is?”

“It’s the worker who got bayoneted,” Jamie confirmed. “You know what this means, don’t you? If we die here, we’ll be drafted into the British Army.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

After a long stint of standing around, the fog fueled the return of dozens of ghost soldiers cramming both passages. Their small safe zone didn’t leave room for them to do much.

Jamie and Leah relied on the ghost soldiers to illuminate the passages, saving their batteries’ life. The ghosts’ combined glow provided a dim light. Now that she was out of immediate danger, Leah found the glow pretty in its own way.

Jamie leaned against a wall, glaring at the ghosts glaring at him and making V signs with their fingers. He was less enamored with the gothic beauty of the horde.

She understood his concern. The barrier candles burned slowly, but they wouldn’t last forever. They needed a plan. She’d only ordered the retreat to get closer to the alcove, and she wanted to be able to turn her back to a wall without worrying about an ambush.

“Why do they keep doing that?” Leah asked, gesturing at one of the ghosts. “The V sign.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s the eighteenth-century equivalent of the middle finger.” Jamie chuckled, despite their dire situation. “I’m impressed. They’re dead, but they have enough presence of mind to throw us obscene gestures. I hope I’m that feisty when I’m dead.”

Leah scoffed and waved at the ghosts. “Can you hear me?”

That riled them. Their mouths moved, but she heard nothing in her ears or mind. “The barrier candles must be blocking them. I was hoping I could negotiate.”

Jamie flipped off a ghost making the V sign. “This reminds me of the beginning of Romeo and Juliet.”

Leah looked confused. “It does? I don’t remember much of the play, but I don’t recall ghosts. Are you sure you’re not thinking of Hamlet or The Tempest? I was not into Shakespeare past high school and one English class in college.”

“We had to act out scenes from Romeo and Juliet when I was in high school,” Jamie explained. “I was a Capulet servant at the beginning who starts a brawl by biting his thumb at Montagues.”

“Oh, I remember that.” Leah chuckled. “I get what you mean.”

Discussing Elizabethan drama and obscene gestures while ghost Redcoats tried to get through a supernatural barrier to murder her was surreal to the point of absurdity. Leah couldn’t die in this situation. She didn’t want to be a ghost flipping people off for eternity.

Jamie nodded. “Too bad Emily isn’t here to confirm the obscene gestures.”

Leah shook her head. “I don’t know if we’re unlucky or she was lucky, but it’s a good thing she escaped.”

“We could use a third blacklight.” Jamie shrugged. “I don’t know if she’d have qualms about frying ghosts since they’re already dead.”

“It’s easier to escape with two people than three.” Leah headed into the alcove and felt around the walls, searching for the hidden door. “I hope our people are smart enough to follow orders and withdraw. Without blacklights, it’s very dangerous.”

“The squads got the messages,” Jamie said. “If you figured it out, Emily might have. They could have flown in an industrial-grade UV light and are covering the entire site. I can imagine them running around in protective clothing and goggles.”

“Desperation made me realize the sunlight clue might be literal. That makes me wonder if they used mirrors or a UPDO back then for something similar.” Leah eyed her blacklight. “I’m worried that the squads will be stubborn and take casualties trying to rescue us.”

“Despite you ordering them not to?” Jamie asked.

Leah glanced his way. “Everyone in this unit is stubborn. Me, you, and down to our lowest-ranking people. Even Emily in her own way. That’s a good thing on most days, but the choice is easy if it comes down to us versus them. Two resistant people aren’t worth dozens of lives. That’s always been my policy. We’re not the BCCS. We value everyone’s life.”

“They have their orders. I wouldn’t worry about them. We’re drawing a hell of a lot of attention to us right now.” Jamie stared at her. “You giving up, Leah?”

She stepped out of the alcove, her stomach twisting at the accusation. “No. I wouldn’t have bothered with the barrier candles if I’d given up.”

“Then what’s that about?”

“I wonder if we’ve been set up to fail from the beginning. That door was always meant to shut after a certain number of entrances and exits. I’m now convinced of that. This whole thing was a trap.”

“Those messages are old,” Jamie protested. “This place is too. I have a hard time believing the BCCS was playing such a long game that they set a trap for resistant enemies that wouldn’t be triggered for centuries. If they were that good, George Drake would be King of America rather than doing his best to hide from us.”

Leah frowned. “You make a good point, but I’m suggesting this place is a recent trap.” She stared at a ghost soldier glaring at her. “I don’t want to believe we’re rats.”

“We’re not dead yet. We can gnaw off our legs if we're using animal metaphors.”

Leah walked toward the barrier candles on the left side and pushed her head closer to the ghosts. One thrust his bayonet at her, and she leaped back. The blade dissipated when it passed between the barrier candles.

Jamie yanked his blacklight off his belt and blew the ghost apart. The others backed away, stopping before they ran into other ghosts.

“They can’t occupy the same space,” Leah observed. “Do you think that’s a fundamental limitation, or is it like Emily suggested? They can’t do it because, on some level, they still think they’re alive?”

“I have no idea. I don’t think it matters beyond knowing they can’t stack ten soldiers in one spot.” Jamie scoffed at the mist drifting to the ground from his earlier attack. “They can communicate and are trying to make us mad with rude gestures.”

“It all goes back to them showing intelligence.”

“I know you feel sorry for them, but they want to kill us. Keep that in mind.”

“I’m prioritizing our survival. The problem is, I’m having trouble coming up with a viable plan other than intense bouts of fighting and trying to advance the barrier candle zone.” Leah folded her arms. “It’s too dangerous to surrender to unstable ghosts, assuming they don’t kill us outright. The earlier conversation doesn’t fill me with much hope for that.”

Jamie eyed the worker’s ghost down the passage. “The headlamps will last a few days, but unless you packed more than normal, we have fewer batteries for the flashlights and blacklights. In a sense, we will run out of ammo.”

Leah thought about the decrypted messages. “You’re saying we won’t make it through the night?”

“Not carving through the ghosts again and again and again. This must be where all those ghosts we saw the other night went. They leave a squad on the surface, and the rest hang out here. Night falls, and the ghosts come in force.”

Night falls.

The words lingered in Leah’s mind. She gasped. “The ghosts didn’t appear until the sun went down. They might not be the only thing different about the bunker.”

“Did you figure something out?” Jamie asked, sounding hopeful.

“We only searched for the door during the day. What if the hidden door doesn’t appear until night? The cipher said, ‘The touch of night reveals the bright truth.’ That implies it’s doing more than bringing the ghosts back. That line might not have anything to do with ghosts.”

“The only time you can find it is when ghost guards are around? Maybe the BCCS types had a UPDO to protect themselves from the ghost beyond the door. Otherwise, it’d be too easy for somebody to walk in during the day and find the amulet.”

“A control UPDO is consistent with what we saw with Drake and the mummy,” Leah concluded, her excitement building. “No wonder we couldn’t find the door.”

Jamie pointed at a Redcoat. “You are probably right. Your intuition’s better than mine in situations like this, but if we step past those candles, we’ll have to fight through a company of ghosts.”

Leah eyed the candles. “Emily’s experiments at Camp Legacy and the LTSW suggest we can’t hold the candles and move with them without losing effectiveness.”

“You mentioned trying to advance the zone. I don’t think it’s a good idea to mess with it when we’re facing a murderous mob.” Jamie gestured at the candles. “Right now, we are safe. We might damage the candles by trying to fight while moving them.”

“Agreed.”

Leah squinted at a soldier. He made more rude gestures. Another lifted his musket and fired. Leah didn’t move. The musket ball burst into a mist that drifted away from the barrier candles.

Jamie motioned her into the alcove. She backed away from the ghosts with a frown. He whispered, “We don’t know if they share memories or anything else, but they’re intelligent. We should use that against them.”

“How?” Leah asked. “It’s too late to pretend we’re kidnapped loyal subjects.”

Jamie shook his head. “I was thinking about something less sophisticated.” He patted his chest. “I could act as a decoy.”

“Then what? Could you distract them long enough for me to find the door?” Leah shook her head and turned away. “You keep saying you’re worried about me, but I won’t let you throw your life away on a half-ass plan.”

“Then give me a full-ass plan.” Jamie grinned. “I don’t want to sit here and wait to die. I want to go out on my own two feet, fighting to protect us. Nobody can be ashamed of losing to a whole company.”

“I know,” Leah sighed. “You shouldn’t…wait a minute. Our enemy regenerates with a delay. From what we saw earlier, we need to maintain contact with the blacklight for a half second to a second for it to be effective, but we only have two blacklights. Our best bet is to use them together.”

She could see the effort put into his smile.

“I’ll follow you to the end, Leah. You know that.”

The words struck her heart deeply. She swallowed. “I’m not planning a suicide charge. This is recon. We’re looking for that door.” She pointed down a ghost-filled passage. “We’ll go that way first since that’s the opposite way from where we came, and we didn’t see anything. We’ll fight back to the entrance, and if we don’t find anything, we’ll retreat behind the barrier candle line.”

Jamie nodded uncertainly. “We were lucky they missed earlier. If we make a hard charge, it will hurt.”

Leah shook her head. “The ghosts can’t pass through each other. They used conventional tactics when they shoot at us, and they can’t shoot much farther than we can hurt them. Either the ghost musket balls can kill them, or their minds won’t let them shoot one another. That makes it easier for us because that turns this into a close-range battle. They stopped shooting when the mist formed. That implies they can be blinded.”

Jamie patted his grenades. “I wish I brought smoke grenades.”

She gave a firm nod. “We can do this. If we hit enough of them, we’ll make our own cover. Plus, we have a major advantage.” She gestured at a barrier candle. “We can open the battle from behind a shield. You proved it when you disrupted the ghost who went for me.”

Jamie nodded, his uncertainty gone. “I don’t know which plan is crazier, this or taking on the mummy in Boston.”

Leah pulled the blacklight from her belt pouch. “When everything is insane, following the insane path is sane.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

Standing in front of one set of barrier candles and staring down the ghost-choked passage, Jamie and Leah pointed their blacklights at the floor and turned them on. The ghost Redcoats clutched their muskets, suddenly far less interested in obscene gestures.

“They understand that we can fight,” Jamie asserted. “They can perceive us as a threat.”

“It’d be nice if they understood existential fear,” Leah replied. “They talk like they’re stuck in 1781. If they understand that, we can use that fear to convince them to let us pass.”

“Maybe, but they might reset every night or when they’re destroyed.” Jamies shrugged. “Their rants about their mission and duty make me wonder if they have free will.”

“Who knows? If this plan works, we’ll find the amulet, and we will figure out how to send them away using it.” Leah rolled her shoulders. “Let me ask you one thing before we do this.”

“Sure.”

“Have you ever regretted joining the unit? Before, you might not have cared. With the mummy and the muskets, all you had to worry about was dying. This time, if we screw up, you can’t depend on staying dead. Would you have signed up if you knew then what you know now?”

Jamie grinned. “I would have signed up even faster.”

Leah smiled. “The annoying part is you’re not lying.”

“What about you?”

“The same. I’m meant to be here.” She waved a hand. “I’m not talking about fate or destiny. This is the best way to serve my country. That’s all.”

“We’ll get out of this, Leah. I believe in you, and I think you’re right. That door is findable now. We just have to push through these angry ghosts to reach it.”

Jamie wouldn’t let himself doubt. He’d given her the spiel about fate and destiny earlier. They weren’t supposed to die and join a ghost horde in an old bunker in a random forest.

“Okay, counting down,” Leah began.

Jamie bounced on his feet, then cracked his neck back and forth.

“Five, four, three, two one, go!” She jerked up her blacklight and blew the first ghost apart with a headshot.

Jamie started with a ghost on the other side of the passage. The instant the ghost dissolved, he switched targets. Mist floated from the destroyed ghosts to the ground. Redcoats surged forward, only for their muskets to vanish when they struck the barrier candle field. One tried to run past the barrier candles and burst into mist that wafted back.

Leah and Jamie kept up the slaughter until a dense fog formed. They’d savaged several squads’ worth of ghosts.

Jamie swept his light back and forth in search of a new target. Mist lines swirled and extended from the fog, signaling that the regeneration of the first casualties was underway. Waiting too long would waste their efforts.

Leah motioned Jamie forward, and they advanced in sync at a measured, steady pace rather than a jog or a run. An aggressive advance would end with them getting bayoneted. They stepped into the blinding fog, blacklights extended to destroy any ghosts that stepped in front of them.

When the mist only covered the floor, their twin blacklight beams tore apart another ghost. Jamie’s quick target change destroyed a second before he could fire.

Scowling Redcoats surged forward to punish the interlopers. Leah’s and Jamie’s blacklight beams ripped through them and added their mist to the growing fog.

A ghost leaped out and tried to bayonet Leah. She sidestepped and kicked him backward. Jamie nailed him with his blacklight and reduced him to fog. Leah aimed past the dispersing ghost to destroy a second Redcoat charging her.

Musket barrels poked out of the fog from the earlier casualties. Leah and Jamie jumped apart to escape another silent volley, then rushed forward and destroyed the new ghosts.

When the pair were halfway down the passage, fog thick in both directions, a flicker of movement in the corner of Jamie’s eye caught his attention. Inspired by Leah’s earlier move, he spun and kicked a musket out of the hands of a ghost behind him. He finished the ghost with a headshot, then picked off a handful of reinforcements.

“We can do this,” Leah called, obliterating a ghost in front of them. “We’re making it through.”

“Good news is, you were right about them not shooting through the fog. Bad news is, they’re regenerating like before.”

“Just keep pushing forward,” Leah ordered. “We have to find that door. If we can see the glow of the ghosts, we should be able to see a glowing door.”

Jamie didn’t point out that their plan rested on her interpretation of an encrypted clue. He’d rather die following it than wait for the barrier candles to run out and their batteries to die and be overwhelmed.

They moved forward faster than before, though they stayed below a jog. Jamie concentrated on watching their backs. He wasn’t paying much attention to individual ghosts, but the regeneration time felt like it was now longer. Apparently, even the undead had limits.

Tense minutes ticked away before they reached the bend in the passage that curved back to the fork in the entry chamber.

Leah blew through more ghosts and gestured at a bright light around the bend. Mist pooled on the floor without spilling into the passage, like there were barrier candles around the curve. That didn’t stop Redcoats from running around the bend into the hunters’ waiting blacklights.

“Are we winning, or are we close to something?” Jamie asked.

Pain shot up his back. He fell to one knee, twisted, and blew apart the ghost that shot him from behind.

Leah downed more ghosts rushing toward her. “Are you hit?”

“Yes, but it’s not bad.” Jamie’s back throbbed despite his bravado. He poked his finger into a shallow hole in the back of his tactical vest. “No residual musket ball, and it didn’t make it through the armor plates.” He punctuated his sentence by shredding another ghost.

“Then we need to push forward.” Leah swept her light back and forth, taking just enough time to break apart a ghost before shifting to a new target.

Jamie waited a few seconds to pick off more rear reinforcements before standing. He and Leah advanced until they could see into the front chamber. Ghosts marched in from the other passage.

“You’re kidding me!” Leah shouted. “It was there all the time?”

A circular glow lit the center of the floor in the front chamber. The light surrounded a hole in the middle of the room. No ghosts were in the front chamber, yet reinforcements converged from both directions. A grim-faced Leah shredded more ghosts before taking a deep breath. “We could have saved ourselves a lot of trouble if we’d come at night. The amulet must be in there. We’ll make a run for the chamber, and you’ll cover me while I look for the amulet.”

Jamie frowned. “It might be better⁠—”

“No,” Leah snapped. That look on her face told Jamie she wouldn’t debate this. “Your combat experience makes you better positioned to cover me while I look for the amulet. Understood?”

“Yes, Major,” Jamie replied tightly.

“Then let’s move!”

Leah aimed her blacklight at the head of a ghost stepping around the corner with his musket raised to fire. Once he broke apart, she sprinted toward the front chamber, disturbing the mist covering the floor. Jamie alternated aiming at and eliminating ghosts in the two passages.

Another ghost got off a shot that whizzed past Leah’s head. She put the close call out of her mind and pressed her attack. She trusted Jamie to hold off the enemy, living or dead. Hesitating would doom them both to an eternal mission.

They made it into the front chamber. As Leah had seen, the mist flowed up to the chamber’s edge without entering. Jamie took cover behind a wall, and a volley ripped dirt off it. Whatever was stopping the mist wasn’t stopping the musket balls.

Leah grabbed her chance to run over to the hole. Her brow wrinkled at the sight of the dust-covered golden ladder. “That’s excessive.”

She slipped the blacklight into a pocket, jumped onto the ladder, and scrambled down. A musket ball struck the edge of the hole and showered dirt on her.

“Leah!”

“I’m fine.” She continued climbing down the ladder.

Leah jumped off the last two rungs. She’d worried about another sprawling sublevel, but the ladder ended in a star-shaped stone chamber with glowing gold and silver arcane sigils covering the walls. Faded letters hung above the sigils. A circular bone amulet on a gold chain lay in the center of the floor. Bright rays from the amulet fed the wall sigils.

She could only make out one word, REX. She lacked Jamie’s knowledge of Latin, but she knew that meant king.

Leah walked over and reached for the amulet. Pain shot through her, and she stumbled back. Hissing, she shook out her hand. A Redcoat stepped through the wall and glared at her.

“That’s not fair,” Leah said, her heart racing. She glanced at the ladder, worried that the presence of the ghost meant Jamie was dead.

Spies deserve death, even those of the fairer sex, the ghost declared. He lifted his musket, though he kept his finger away from the trigger.

Leah rushed toward the amulet, but the pain pushed her back again. She jumped this time, and an invisible force launched her into the wall. Her ankle slammed into the floor with another flash of pain, and she heard a pop.

The ghost stalked toward her and brought his bayonet back. She grabbed the blacklight, but the ghost thrust his bayonet at her hand. The blade pierced her palm, and her blacklight went flying and cracked on the stone.

Leah screamed and pulled her throbbing hand off the bayonet. The ghost brought his musket back again, his glare replaced by pity.

“Leah!” Jamie shouted from above.

You fought well, rebel spy, the ghost said. Stop resisting, and I’ll dispatch you quickly. You will join us in protecting this place.

“Then you know you’re dead.”

“We have our duty and mission. We must complete it.”

Her heart galloping and her hand on fire, she yanked the pistol out of her holster with her good hand. Shooting the ghost wouldn’t help, but there had to be something she could do. Her gaze slid to the amulet.

Leah aimed at it and fired, and the amulet shattered. The pieces flared and burned, producing dark smoke. The light rays vanished. The ghost staggered back and turned to the center of the chamber, his mouth a surprised O.

“It’s over,” she snarled, grimacing and dropping her pistol.

Spectral eyes filled the ghost’s eye sockets. He turned to Leah and faded, smiling. His last words lingered in the air. “Thank you. Our mission is completed.”

Jamie panted. His vest had saved him from three musket balls, but it didn’t save him from the pain. There were too many ghosts without Leah’s blacklight backing him up. They approached him from both sides, overwhelming him with shots.

Leah’s scream tormented him, and she had not responded to his shout. He had let her descend to her death. At the rate he was going, he’d join her soon.

The ghosts stopped, and their eyes filled in. They exchanged surprised looks and smiles before disappearing.

Jamie blinked, then looked around, not believing what he’d seen.

“Jamie, are you all right?” Leah called from the hidden chamber.

“I’m fine,” he told her, relieved. “What about you?”

“I’ve been better.”

“The ghosts all disappeared. Did you find the amulet, or are we damned lucky?”

“Yes. I found the amulet.” Her voice shook. “I need help to get back up.”

“I’ll be right down.”

Jamie had pushed Leah up the ladder and into the entrance chamber, then bandaged her hand, but they needed a medic.

The front door swung open. Jamie yanked the blacklight from his belt and pointed it at the shadowy form entering before realizing it was Emily. Bruises covered half her face.

Men and women in full tactical gear stood outside in the pit. Everyone had rifles slung over their shoulders, and no one had drawn theirs. After a moment, Jamie realized nobody was wearing gloves.

Jamie helped Leah up and offered her a shoulder.

She frowned at Emily. “You were not supposed to engage if the ghosts appeared.”

“The ghosts at Gettysburg were nicer, if scarier in their own way,” Emily replied. She reached for her bruise and winced. “Obi and his people wanted to make a push. I volunteered to try to open the door, and things got hectic.”

Lieutenant Obi stepped forward, a deep gash across his cheek. “We knew we couldn’t win, Major. We just wanted to keep them off her until she got the door open. It took more than a few attempts, complete with retreats, but we did it.” He looked around. “Then the ghosts disappeared, though there weren’t many. They were a small but annoying unit every time we pushed.”

“That’s because most were in the bunker attacking us,” Jamie explained.

Leah sighed. Technically, command had defaulted to Lieutenant Obi with her and Jamie out of touch and their status unknown. “We found and neutralized the source UPDO.” She limped out of the bunker into the pit. “The ghosts will no longer be a problem.”

Obi frowned at her hand. “We need the medic. The major’s hurt.”

Jamie looked over his shoulder. “Should I go recover the barrier candles, Major?”

Leah frowned. “I believe we neutralized the UPDO and freed the ghosts, but I don’t want you going back in there.”

Obi cleared his throat. “Ma’am, whatever you did, there’s no chill zone.” He gestured around. “We don’t feel anything anymore.”

Leah’s pain and surprise had distracted her from realizing that. “In that case, have one of the squads recover the candles, Lieutenant Carter. We both deserve a rest.”

Jamie exited the bunker with a nod. “I could use some fresh air.”

The door slammed shut. Everyone except Jamie raised their fists. He brandished his blacklight. Tremors shook the ground.

“Retreat beyond the perimeter!” Leah barked. She fell to one knee, pain spreading through her leg and arm.

Jamie didn’t waste time asking for permission. He rushed over, scooped her up, and sprinted toward one of the steep dirt ramps that rose out of the pit. Half the group, including Obi, ran toward the ladder and ascended it in record time. The rest followed Jamie up the ramp.

As they left the pit, the shaking intensified. Jamie ignored his pain and exhaustion and charged away from the site, unaware of the men and women running near him. The pit exploded in a geyser of rock, dirt, and stone. He twisted his body to take the impact on the ground and protect Leah.

Dust coated and blinded him, and he coughed. Leah coughed in his arms.

Jamie sat up. Leah scooted away from him, peering through the dust cloud and the rocks bouncing off their helmets. As the dust cleared, everyone sat up and brushed themselves off. The pit was gone. A mound of dirt and rock covered the clearing, half-burying the mini-backhoe and tents.

Jamie looked around. Obi and the others had taken a tumble, but everyone was getting back on their feet.

“Another damned trap at the end.” Leah groaned. “We’ll have to pay for that equipment to keep Sposato from crying.”

“Look on the bright side, Major. We don’t have to blow it up.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Leah stood with Emily in Sergeant Benson’s hospital room a few days later.

Emily held up a vase of flowers and smiled. “How are you feeling, Sergeant?”

Benson shrugged. “I’m feeling great, Doc, but that could be the morphine. I don’t need to hang out in the hospital, but the other doc insisted.” He grinned at Leah. “It sounds like I missed the real fun. Ghost armies. Blowing up the site. I heard somebody used C-4.”

“To make one thing clear, the site blew itself up.” Leah held up her bandaged hand. “I could have gone my entire life without being bayoneted by a ghost, but there’s no infection.” She smirked. “Or radiation poisoning. I needed stitches, not surgery, and there was no nerve damage. We were both lucky this time, Sergeant. Next time, it could be far worse.”

Benson chuckled and looked around. “Where’s Carter? I wanted to bust his balls for only ending up with bruises. He won’t get a Purple Heart that way.”

“He’s coordinating the administrative aspects of the cleanup,” Leah explained. “Colonel Washington didn’t want me doing anything strenuous while I’m still on painkillers.”

Humming, Emily walked over to the windowsill and set the flowers down. “It’s a shame we couldn’t recover any real artifacts from the site.”

“With our gas and chemical explosion cover story, nobody will be digging there for a while,” Leah countered. “I doubt there’s much to recover besides pieces of stone or bone, and all indications suggest no active UPDO effects in the area. Colonel Washington won’t even authorize us to recover the barrier candles. They’re considered lost and neutralized. We’ll have to be careful with the remaining candles.”

Emily sighed. “I don’t know what to think about everything that happened. We dealt with honest-to-goodness ghosts.”

Benson eyed her. “You’ve seen ghosts before. That was one of the reasons they recruited you.”

“Those ghosts didn’t try to kill me. They didn’t show much intelligence.” Emily shook her head. “Everything about this incident makes me hate the BCCS more.”

“That’s not unreasonable,” Leah agreed. “I’m just proud that our unit stopped whatever their plan, but both the modern BCCS and their ancestors hurt people using that amulet. Evidence points to Drake directing Sposato to the site.”

“I can’t hate ‘em too much,” Benson inserted.

“Really?” Leah’s brows rose. “Why not?”

“Because I’m getting a Purple Heart for taking a ghost musket ball and a bayonet.” Benson snickered. “I hope my ex-wives live long enough that this shit gets declassified, and I can show them.”

Leah was sitting at her desk, reviewing reports. She was supposed to take a few more days off, but didn’t want to fall behind. Her wounded hand could not type, but her other hand could click a mouse.

Jamie stepped into the doorway. “Major.”

“At ease,” she called without looking up. “Are you here to yell at me about working when I’m supposed to rest?”

Jamie closed the door and sat in front of her. “I’ve done the same thing, so it’s not like I can complain without being a hypocrite.”

Leah nodded at her computer. “I was reviewing the ongoing efforts by our federal law enforcement friends to dismember historical American forests. Every victory against the BCCS helps us deal with them more easily the next time.”

“I wanted to talk to you about that. They raided the last office. It was long-abandoned. No evidence of UPDOs. I had a team on standby.” He frowned. “The agents did find something of interest. A printed note, though no DNA or fingerprints.”

Leah frowned. “What did the note say?”

Jamie took a deep breath and scowled. “It said, ‘How many traitors did you lose this time, Major Morgan?’ It was signed GD.”

Leah gritted her teeth. “That son of a bitch. I suspected that, but the confirmation burns.”

“We didn’t lose anyone. He doesn’t know that.”

“He might know that Benson’s off-mission for a while. They might have a remote-viewing UPDO. He might have seen the gunshot wound, or he might have seen everything.”

Jamie shook his head. “If that were true, he would have said so in the note.”

Leah glared at her bandaged hand. “Drake made a mistake. He should have kept quiet and let us believe the BCCS would keep a low profile. Now we know they’re laying traps for us, so we’ll be ready next time. They keep making this personal. He’s giving us all the reason in the world to track him down and burn his organization to the ground.”

“He can’t help it.” Jamie shook his head. “He can’t stand knowing we’ve beaten them. This is about ego and desperation. He thinks he’s better, so he’ll keep coming at us.”

“It’s hard to fight terrorists who won’t stand and confront you. This was a mistake. Drake is ruthless. He could have ambushed us with mercenaries while we were running from the ghosts. It’s not like he cares about their lives. He’s too busy letting his ego lead him to ruin.”

Jamie looked down and gave a sly smile. “You think the BCCS is on its last legs.”

“I think they’re far weaker than when we first battled them. Which also makes them more dangerous. They’re wounded and will lash out.”

“We’re winning,” Jamie declared. “We’re beating them mission by mission, and we’ve only suffered wounded, no KIAs. They can’t say that.” He shrugged. “I bet once we take the BCCS down, our jobs will be as simple as catching the occasional gremlin wrench. No more mummies or ghost armies.”

Leah let out a sharp laugh but regretted it when her hand throbbed. “Only the occasional gremlin wrench. That’s a cheerful and normal future.”

“Whatever keeps people safe.”

Leah stared at him uneasily. “Thank you, by the way.”

“For handling things while you’re recovering? No problem.” Jamie smiled. “It’s my job.”

“No, for not fighting me near the end,” Leah said. “I know how hard it’s been for you to separate your feelings for me from your duty. When I needed you to listen and you did, and that was why we made it out of there alive.”

Jamie’s smile faded. “I understand that I can’t protect you. That doesn’t mean I won’t try, and I know you feel more than you are willing to admit.”

Leah looked away, cheeks heating. “I need time. That’s all I can tell you.”

“Take all the time you need.” Jamie stood. “We make a great team, Leah, in more ways than one.”

“I’m not saying you’re wrong.” Leah leaned back in the chair and thought about the mission. “Things could have gone a different way. It was far too close too many times.”

Jamie shrugged. “That’s life. You can’t have highs without the lows.”

“Whatever happens between us, it won’t be the same as before. We’re not the same people. You know that, right?”

Jamie laughed. “On this job? I don’t know anything except that I need to check in with the infantry platoon right now. I only stopped by to tell you about the note.”

“Okay, then we can discuss that other matter at a different time. Dismissed.”

She watched him depart, her calm exterior hiding her swirling emotions. The feelings she had tried to bury had escaped during their time in the bunker, and the BCCS was now waging open war on Legacy Operations Command.

“One problem at a time,” she whispered. “One problem at a time.”

They’d limited civilian casualties and freed a bunch of poor souls trapped in a hellish eternity fighting a battle they’d lost in 1781. That was a victory, and she’d take it.

THE STORY CONTINUES

The story continues in Book Four, The Traitor’s Relic!

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AUTHOR NOTES: MARTHA CARR

MARCH 2, 2025

The Hobby Hustle: Gardening vs. Gaming

I’ve always been a firm believer in the power of hobbies. They’re like little islands of joy in the sea of everyday obligations—a place to escape, recharge, and remind yourself that life isn’t just about crossing things off a to-do list. For me, that island is gardening. For Mike, it’s video games. And let me tell you, our approaches could not be more different.

Gardening, for me, isn’t so much a hobby as it is an unpaid, sometimes expensive calling and form of meditation. It’s part therapy, part art form, and part science experiment. My backyard is a canvas of raised beds, flower paths, fruit trees and bushes, an archway covered in vines and more. I pour hours into planting, pruning, and nurturing, coaxing life out of dirt like some kind of green-thumbed magician. You know how I feel about magic.

Mike, meanwhile, spends his free time wielding a different kind of magic—the virtual kind. His “garden” is an ever-expanding world of video games, complete with glowing swords, pixelated explosions, and characters who look like they stepped out of an action movie. While I’m outside battling aphids with ladybugs, he’s inside battling ogres.

At first, I didn’t get it. “You love that,” I’d say, watching him intently mash buttons on the controller.

He’d laugh and shake his head. “I do—it’s strategy, teamwork, and storytelling.”

“Okay,” I’d say, as I pulled on my gardening gloves and headed outside to wage war against a particularly invasive vine. I didn’t exactly get it, but I didn’t need to.

Gardening feels tangible to me in a way that video games don’t. There’s something deeply satisfying about digging your hands into the soil, feeling the sun on your face, and watching something you planted grow and thrive. It’s a slow, deliberate kind of symbiotic agreement with nature and one that requires patience and persistence.

Mike’s magic, on the other hand, happens at light speed. He’ll spend hours immersed in a game, exploring fantastical worlds, solving puzzles, and teaming up with friends to defeat whatever villain happens to be terrorizing the digital realm that day, while catching up with how someone is doing. He’s explained the plotlines to me a few times, but I still struggle to keep track of which hero is saving which city from which evil invader.

I love that he lights up when he talks about his latest achievements, his eyes sparkling with the same excitement I feel when I finally manage to coax a finicky plant into thriving.

“There’s a new game out. It just dropped.”

“That’s great,” I replied, though I had no idea what it meant. “My peach tree is blossoming, at last.”

He grinned. “See? We’re both crushing it in our own way.”

And he’s right. As different as our hobbies are, they share a common thread: they make us happy.

Gardening, for all its expenses and frustrations, feeds my soul. There’s a sense of peace that comes from tending to something living, from watching tiny seeds transform into flowers or vegetables. It’s a reminder that life is full of little miracles, even if they come with dirt under your fingernails.

Mike’s gaming, on the other hand, gives him a sense of adventure and accomplishment. It’s his way of unwinding, of connecting with friends, and of flexing his creative muscles.

We’ve even managed to find ways to bridge the gap between our hobbies. Mike has helped me design a garden layout using a computer program (which, to my surprise, he found incredibly fun). And while I’m not exactly jumping into the gaming world, I’ve sat down a few times to watch him play.

“Is that supposed to be a good guy or a bad guy?” I asked during one particularly chaotic scene.

“Good guy,” he said, not missing a beat as he dodged an onslaught of virtual arrows.

“And the glowing thing?”

“That’s a power-up.”

I nodded, pretending I understood, and he laughed. “You don’t have to get it,” he said. “Just let me enjoy it.”

Fair enough.

The truth is, I don’t need to understand video games any more than Mike needs to understand why I spend so much money on heirloom seeds and fancy pruning shears. What matters is that our hobbies bring us joy and, in their own ways, make us better partners.

Gardening has taught me patience, persistence, and how to work with something than have too strong an attachment to any particular outcome. Mike’s gaming has taught him teamwork, problem-solving, and the importance of finding time for fun. And together, our hobbies have taught us how to celebrate each other’s passions, even when they don’t overlap.

While I’ll probably never join Mike in the world of epic boss battles and menacing guns, and he’ll probably never wake up early to help me weed the garden, we’ve found a rhythm that works for us. Though there was that week he watered the garden for me while I was laid up, recovering from a dislocated femur. That’s love.

He does stand outside to admire a newly planted bed or to offer moral support when I’m battling the Texas heat to keep my tomatoes alive. And I leave him be during his gaming sessions and give him space. Occasionally, we pull out a board game or head to the Emerald Tavern and play something together.

In the end, hobbies aren’t about being productive or even about being good at them. They’re about finding joy in something just for the sake of it, about nurturing the parts of yourself that light up when you’re doing what you love.

For me, that’s gardening. For Mike, it’s video games. And for both of us, it’s learning to love and appreciate the quirks that make each other tick. More adventures to follow.

AUTHOR NOTES: MICHAEL ANDERLE

MARCH 3, 2025

Henderson, Nv

First off, let me say how grateful I am that you stuck around for these notes even after all the cosmic madness we are going through. 

Trust me, I know there are countless ways to spend your reading time so thank you for letting me whisper about tentacles and terror in your ear.

So, I was thinking about sharing some of my research yesterday regarding some of the authors who have been a part of creating the present and for (whatever insane reason) H.P. Lovecraft came to mind.

It's not like I read him, I don't. 

But any author who affected so many readers and creatives today probably has an interesting story I would like to know.  So, I did some research, and I'd like to share this research with you here.

H.P. Lovecraft: Terror, Tentacles, and Troubling Views

While other kids were having nightmares about monsters under the bed, young Howard Phillips Lovecraft was busy taking notes for his future literary career. Born in 1890 to a family with more mental illness than money, Lovecraft's childhood in Providence, Rhode Island was a perfect storm of factors guaranteed to produce either a serial killer or a horror writer. Luckily for readers (and potential victims), he chose the latter. 

After his father's syphilis-induced psychotic breakdown when Howard was only three, he was raised by his overprotective mother, aunts, and grandfather. A recipe for well-adjusted adulthood if ever there was one - not! 

A sickly child who suffered from night terrors and nervous breakdowns, Lovecraft was unable to graduate high school due to a nervous breakdown, never held conventional employment (though he did work as a freelance writer and editor), and eventually died of intestinal cancer in 1937, broke and virtually unknown. 

Talk about a glow-up. The guy who couldn't afford proper medical care now has his terrifying face plastered across t-shirts worn by college students who've never read his work.

Lovecraft didn't just write horror he fundamentally reinvented it. Before him, horror was all about ghosts saying "boo" and vampires being sexually frustrated. Lovecraft said "nah" to all that and instead created cosmic horror. The idea that the universe is an incomprehensible void filled with entities so vast and alien that merely glimpsing them drives humans insane. 

His fictional Necronomicon, a forbidden text written by the "mad Arab Abdul Alhazred," has been referenced so often that bookstores regularly field requests for this non-existent tome. 

He crafted an intricate shared universe decades before Marvel made billions from the concept, with his tentacled Great Old One Cthulhu becoming the Mickey Mouse of existential dread.

In his seminal work "The Call of Cthulhu" (1928), Lovecraft introduced his most famous creation (a cosmic entity described as part octopus, part dragon, part human caricature) who sleeps beneath the Pacific Ocean waiting to reclaim Earth (spoiler: he hits the snooze button). 

"At the Mountains of Madness" chronicled an Antarctic expedition discovering the ruins of an alien civilization older than human history, featuring his trademark protagonists which happened to be educated white men who faint a lot. 

"The Shadow Over Innsmouth" combined his two greatest fears: fish people and race-mixing. His prose, characterized by an abundance of adjectives like "eldritch," "cyclopean," and "non-Euclidean," somehow manages to be simultaneously overwrought and effective, like a Victorian gentleman having a panic attack while holding a thesaurus.

However, let's address the elephant in the room: Lovecraft was catastrophically racist, even by the standards of his time. His cat's name was so offensive it can't be printed here, and his personal correspondence revealed views that would make a eugenicist blush. His early stories particularly reflect a pathological fear of immigrants, non-white races, and cultural mixing. 

His later works showed slight evolution in his thinking, possibly influenced by his brief marriage to Sonia Greene, an American-born Jewish woman of Ukrainian heritage. His characters were often cardboard cutouts serving as vehicles for cosmic terror, and his dialogue makes George Lucas look like Aaron Sorkin.

Despite his personal failings and literary quirks, Lovecraft's shadow looms larger than the imaginative deity he created itself over modern horror to this day. His influence extends from author Stephen King to director Guillermo del Toro, from the movie Alien to the series Stranger Things. 

For newcomers, start with "The Colour Out of Space" before diving into the full tentacled madness. 

Just remember: the greatest horror in Lovecraft's work might not be the monsters, but the realization that its creator saw real human diversity as more terrifying than any interdimensional abomination.

I hope this was interesting!

Ad Aeternitatem,

Michael Anderle

P.S. For more musings, updates, and everything in between, subscribe to the MORE STORIES with Michael newsletter here: https://michael.beehiiv.com/ 

BOOKS BY MARTHA CARR

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WITCH WARRIOR

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