Chapter 175

#Chapter 175 – Twinspeak “Take her away,” Walsh commands his Betas. “To the cells in the basement. I want her under constant supervision.”

The Betas nod, responding immediately, grasping Evelyn by her arms and pulling her out of the room.

On the way, with her back to her father, Evelyn gives Ian a little wink, encouraging him silently to be brave.

He doesn’t respond, knowing that his grandfather’s eyes are on him, but instead covers his mouth in apparent horror and watches her go. When she’s dragged from the room, he collapses to the floor in tears.

Walsh and Willard exchange a glance, apparently not knowing what to do.

They let him cry it out for a moment before Walsh steps forward to his grandson, going to one knee and patting him on the shoulder in an attempt at comfort.

“There there,” Walsh says awkwardly. “She’ll be fine…your mother has been naughty, is all. She is going to go to a safe place until we can sort the situation. Don’t cry.”

But Ian continues to cry, his hands pressed to his eyes as he curls face-down on the floor, gasping for breath and allowing the sobs to rack his body. If Walsh had been watching closely – which he’s not, as he’s made terribly uncomfortable by human emotion – he’d have noticed that no tears were seeping from between Ian’s hands.

Instead, Walsh merely stands up and studies his grandson for a moment before walking back to Willard’s side.

“Will he be all right?” Willard asks.

“He’ll be fine,” Walsh responds, turning to the door and snapping his fingers. “Children are always overly-emotional. We’ll just send him away to the women.”

While Walsh and Willard wait for the Betas to enter the room, Ian uses the time to concentrate on sending Alvin a series of images.

Willard, storming into breakfast, aware that Joyce was gone.

Walsh and Willard, huddled together looking at the phone.

Their mother, being dragged from the room by Betas.

There, Ian thinks, pleased. That should do it.

Two Betas enter the room, responding to Walsh’s beckoning. “Take the boy,” Walsh says, nodding towards Ian, still crying on the floor. “Take him to his grandmother.”

Ian feels a hand on his back, then, and looks up to see a friendly Beta face there.

“Come on, little man,” the Beta says, giving him a little smile. “Let’s take you to your grandmother, all right?”

Ian sniffs, whipping his nose with the back of his hand, and nods, apparently exhausted and willing to do as he’s told.

The Beta gives him a little wink and helps him to his feet, then puts a gentle arm around his shoulders as he leads him from the room, nodding to Walsh as he goes.

Ian and the Beta walk silently together down the hall, but as they go, Ian looks curiously up at the man.

“What’s your name?” Ian asks, “where are you from? Do you know my mommy?”

The Beta, sensing that the child needs a little distraction, begins to tell him. Ian responds with interested ooohs and aaahs, but, as the Beta concentrates on the story, Ian carefully unhooks the Beta’s cell phone from his utility belt and slides it in to his own back pocket.

Victor is standing at the head of a convoy of trucks, consulting with one of his Beat team leaders, when Alvin suddenly tugs on his sleeve.

“Papa,” he says, his little voice urgent.

Victor looks down at Alvin, a little frustrated at the interruption, but then does a double-take. Alvin’s face is drawn with worry and Victor realizes that Alvin wouldn’t interrupt him for something that wasn’t terribly important. He’s smarter than that.

“A moment,” Victor says to the Beta, who nods and moves to speak to the rest of the team. Then, Victor crouches down to listen to his son.

“Papa,” Alvin says, glancing around, not sure who he is allowed to talk in front of. “Ian sent me some…

messages.”

Victor nods, encouraging him to continue, his pulse speeding up. Finally, some information from inside.

Alvin nods and carries on. “Ian says that grandpapa knows that you’re coming,” he says.

Victor frowns at this – did Evelyn tell him? Intuiting the direction of his thoughts, Alvin shakes his head.

“No,” Alvin says. “Another Alpha was there – a skinny man – Ian showed me a picture. He came and told grandpapa this morning.” Victor nods, knowing instantly that Alvin, in describing the skinny Alpha, must mean Willard.

“They have information on you – something on a phone – and Ian says that someone is missing?” Alvin screws up his face here, thinking hard, frustrated. “I don’t know who – a bad man?” He shrugs.

Victor nods, listening, but also confused by this. Who could they mean?

“Anything else?” Victor asks.

“Yes,” Alvin says, his face dropping now. Victor’s stomach drops as well, when he sees his son’s expression. “They took mommy away from Ian – they pulled her out of the room. He couldn’t tell me any words – but I got a very bad feeling.”

Victor grits his teeth at this. “I think they’re blaming your mom,” he says quietly, speaking his thoughts aloud, “for my mobilization. They probably think she’s somehow involved in the plan.”

Alvin nods. “Yes, that sounds…well, like it matches up with what Ian was sending me. Though I don’t know for sure.”

Victor stands up, putting a hand on his son’s shoulder. “You’re doing well, Alvin. Thank you. If you can get a message back – assure him that we’re coming, but don’t give any detail…that would be good.”

Alvin nods and Victor considers even this choice. He doesn’t want to give Walsh any more information, but still – he hates the thought of his son in Walsh’s clutches, separated from his mother, afraid.

Damnit, but it does light a fire underneath him.

Making a quick decision, Victor turns to his Betas and raises his voice. “Let’s move out!” he says, definitive. “I want to get on the ground tonight! It’s time!”

Rafe comes forward quickly. “Victor,” he says, urgent. “This wasn’t the plan – we were going to plan all day tomorrow and then go in the evening, use the night to get into place –“

Victor shakes his head decisively. “Timeline moved up,” he says, holding Rafe’s gaze. “They’ve got Evelyn, they think she’s part of it. I’m getting her out of there. Now.”

Sighing, Rafe nods, conceding. Once Victor’s made up his mind, there’s no stopping him. Besides, he’s always been a fan of move now and plan later. Too many military campaigns had been ruined by delayed action.

Victor’s command ripples through the legion, as shown by the increased fervor with which his army moves. When he gets the nod from his lead Betas, Victor climbs into the lead truck, Alvin and Rafe at his side.

“Let’s move out!” He shouts, slapping his hand on the truck’s metal roof.

Then, as one, the army begins to move.