The Gender Fall (The Gender Game #5)

We took one of the boys, Viggo told me solemnly. It doesn’t look like we’re being pursued, but we need advice on how to proceed.

I turned back to my controls, prepared to use the drone to give them some information about the area, only to remember, as I saw the black screen buzzing with static in front of me, that I had crashed the drone into the generators. I slid my hand out of the metal tubes, almost sadly. Beside me, Thomas’ fingers were flying over his keyboard as he spoke.

“Do not come back here,” he said into his mic. “We don’t know who’s tracking those boys, or how. I’m researching an area remote enough to direct you to. What direction are you heading now?”

I frowned and cocked my head, shooting a glance at Ms. Dale, who was bobbing her head in agreement with Thomas. I stood and moved over to her, shakily stretching my limbs. Seeming to catch the question in my eyes, the old spy told me in a soft voice, “Thomas is right. We could lead them right back here, and we can’t compromise the integrity of this base. Especially since we don’t have a fallback location ready yet.”

I bit my lip and nodded, feeling slow for not recognizing that earlier. “Of course,” I said. “That’s smart.”

Ms. Dale gave me a conciliatory smile and placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sure you would’ve puzzled that out for yourself soon enough. You did really well tonight.”

I ran a hand down my face. “I appreciate you saying that, but I’m not so sure. I mean, I should’ve used the thermal scanning on the tents. Then we would’ve known it was a trap, and none of this would be happening.”

“No.” Ms. Dale’s grip on my shoulder tightened, and she shook her head emphatically, her hair, in a tight braid, jerking over her shoulder. “There were three people in this room, and we all missed that. Yes, it was a dumb oversight, but you aren’t to blame. If anything, I am—I should’ve asked you to do it, but to be honest, I was more concerned about those trailers than the tents as well.”

Her words made me feel a little better, but still… “We need to be better next time,” I said stiffly.

Ms. Dale grinned at me. “We’re always going to need to do better,” she replied. “It’s just part of being in charge. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

I nodded and then turned to see Thomas looking at us expectantly.

“What’s the plan?” I asked, bringing my mind back to the task at hand: getting Viggo, Owen, and the captured—hopefully, now rescued—boy safely back here.

“Not a lot of good options in the area. That death camp was practically at the foot of one of the mountains. I have them heading south now, trying to buy a little time, but there aren’t a lot of roads for them to use.”

“Roads would be a bad call anyway,” replied Ms. Dale, toying with her braid with one hand. Her gaze was thoughtful as she considered the problem. “The guards at that camp will have already notified their higher-ups, and, seeing as the camp was bait, I would be surprised if they didn’t have troops nearby, ready to do a sweep. No—we need to do something a bit more unexpected to buy us some time.”

I frowned and crossed my arms. “Thomas, do you think you could look at the map and theorize where they might’ve hidden their troops, if they have any? Best guess is better than nothing.”

Thomas’ fingers flew over his computer, and I looked at the screen connected to it, watching as a 3D topographical map appeared. Thomas began clicking on areas, placing a few red hexagonal markers. I watched closely, noting the location of the base and the direction Thomas had advised Viggo and Owen to go.

“Where should Viggo and Owen be now?” I asked him, and he nodded. A few more clicks on the keyboard, and a blue triangle appeared on the map.

Ms. Dale came up beside me and watched intently as well. “That’s good, Violet. Thomas, eliminate all but four or five of the proposed troop locations. I can’t imagine they would commit any more than that, and even that might be a bit excessive.”

I watched as several of the red hexagons disappeared from the map, only a handful remaining. “Of course, this is only conjecture,” said Thomas. “But if I were them, that’s where I would be.”

Ms. Dale took a step back, nodding. “You were right to send them south,” she said. “We can find a spot to cover the heloship while we check the boy for trackers so we can airlift them out of the area. Can you show me what the area is like forty to fifty miles away?”

The map on the screen shifted left, revealing more of the geography beyond the camp, the lines moving in wavy ovals and circles that grew wider or closer together, depending on the elevation. Thomas continued to scroll until Ms. Dale’s hand shot out, pointing at a spot.

“There,” she said, tapping the screen. It was a low valley, surrounded by four hills. “We can bring the heloship in here.” Her gaze was steady on the map, and she pointed to a spot less than a mile away. “Have them meet us there.”

Thomas frowned, his eyes studying the screen from behind his spectacles. “It’s bad terrain,” he announced. “It’ll take them at least two hours to get there.”

Ms. Dale turned and nodded solemnly. “It is really bad terrain,” she agreed, sounding almost pleased. “But it’s equally bad for the enemy. They’re going to be tracking them using the boy. But it’s the best shot we have at getting them out before anybody catches up with them.”

“Dr. Arlan will need to go,” I said. Ms. Dale and Thomas looked at me as I worked the plan out in my head. “Someone has to cut the tracker out, assuming the boy has one, and Dr. Tierney is busy caring for Quinn and Henrik, so…”

“You’re right,” said Ms. Dale. “And good idea—the rest of us won’t have to dig around in him blindly looking for it.”

A thought occurred to me, and I frowned. “Thomas, do you know anything about trackers that are put into gels or liquids?”