Page 39 of Broken Ties
Transporting across the country, our target is a besieged mall that was taken by scouts a month ago. The unusual location was enough to flag with North and Gryph, but the moment I got a look at the perimeter, it was clear to me what their purpose was. With solar panels covering every inch of expansive roof space, it has enough power to run a legion’s worth of servers.
It’s a budding communications hub and potentially an information bank.
There's no way that a team of thirty Gifted, no matter how skilled, could clean the location out, not without calling in a lot of back up, and I’m far too impatient. Finding that amount of support would take months of liaising, but getting a solid plan together would take even longer. Instead, I intend to scout the area and find the weaknesses in their defenses, some hole I’m able to manipulate in a covert assignment to get in and out without detection, pillaging this place for as much intel as I can manage.
The moment our feet hit the ground, that plan evaporates into thin air.
Dozens of Shields have begun to line the perimeter of the building, stretching as far as the eye can see. Some are grinning and joking with one another, clearly here willingly, but others have vacant expressions, the telltale sign of abducted Gifted being put to work against their will.
It’s clear we’re up against the clock, and even if I were one to give a fuck about approval, I’d still make peace with moving ahead without North’s knowledge. There’s too much at stake here, and I refuse to lose this opportunity for the sake of groveling after the council for permission.
Fuck the lot of them.
Black curses under his breath, stepping carefully to my side, but our own Shield covers us enough for him to murmur to me without cause for concern. “Fucking typical; every time we think we have the chance to get the upper hand on them, they slam us with another Wasteland.”
Kitara huffs, her eyes shining bright as she keeps us covered. “Why anyone would volunteer to work the edges is beyond me. Even if the Resistance weren’t utterly fucked, they don’t get breaks here. They’re signing their entire life away, and for what?”
She could never work as one of those Shields anyway. Her Gift is concentrated, and some might say that’s a weakness, but we’ve found a way to use it to our advantage. She can’t cover large areas or even the average space most Shields can, but her Shields are iron-clad. As in, North once brushed past Silas Davies himself on a covert mission and the Resistance’s strongest Neuro psychopath couldn’t find him. He was tapped out, pushed himself too far coming after me, and if Davies had caught him, he would’ve been a sitting duck to that butcher.
Kitara saved my brother’s life that day, we’re certain of that.
Watching the loading dock before us now, I scoff at her for giving them far too much credit with her concerns. “Only the weakest minds fall victim to the Resistance’s propaganda; they’re all too fucking stupid to realize they’re just meat in the grinder to their so-called saviors.”
Kieran side-eyes me for the derision in my tone but when I don’t bite back, he must be satisfied I’m not a danger to them all, and he turns back to the mall. It’s not going to be easy to get in or to find anything that’s actually helpful to me, but it’s better than sitting around with our dicks in our hands while the Resistance works diligently to bring about our deaths.
My eyes flash into voids as I check in with my bond, finding it more than ready to enact bloodshed and violence on every lastShield getting into position and all the grunt soldiers working tirelessly in the loading bay. Hundreds of black tubs are being offloaded from the trucks, moving from person to person before disappearing into the building. There’s some weight to them, some of the women and smaller men struggling under them, but none are labeled or distinguishable, from this distance at least.
Azrael drops down from his hiding place behind my ear to land at full size by my feet, sitting obediently with an excited butt wiggle he can’t contain. He looks like a puppy being promised a treat when in reality, he’s a shadow creature being promised bloodshed and mayhem. A nightmare waiting to pounce. I’ve never liked the way that other Gifted call my shadows ’nightmares’ but there’s nothing but pride in the word when I use it.
The Resistance and their sympathizers deserve the worst we can give them, and wouldn’t you know it, that’sme.
For today, at least.
Azrael’s head cocks to the side as I lift my hand in a silent command, more as warning to Gryph’s team than anything my creature would need. Then he moves so quickly he becomes more shadow than form, melting into the dark patches of the stained asphalt and beat up cars littering the area.
Kieran suddenly freezes, one hand coming up to rest against his comms. The moment his eyes widen and his gaze collides with mine, his mouth sets into a vicious shape that says it’s my brother on the other end line. Oh, happy days. I smirk back at him, mostly to piss him all the way off, but he’s almost as well trained as Gryph is in ’Nox management and de-escalation’ skills.
Holding his frustration back, his voice gives away nothing as he barks out orders to the rest of the team, sending them to fan out as far as Kitara can cover them before he sidles back up to me.
Arms crossed over his chest, he shakes his head at me. “What the hell are you thinking, Draven? I get that you thrive on being the wildcard brother, but this is too far. North has no idea where we are or what we’re doing; you lied to me. If something goes wrong, we’re all fucked.”
I give him a look. “I didn’t lie. I told you he knows I’m working on something big and that this was the next logical step. You assumed those two statements were linked—a failing on your part, not mine. How about you find your backbone for once, Black. Do you want to find this Gifted and get them in the ground before they can take anyone else out or not?”
He shakes his head at me. “Not by going against orders, I don’t. This isn’t like the old days, Nox. There’s a reason we don’t run at every Wasteland dick-first!”
Sidestepping him, I shift my focus back onto the trucks being offloaded. “Pathetic. You sound just like the rest of them.”
He scoffs, “What, sane? Non-suicidal?”
Through Azrael’s eyes, I watch as he slips into the mall and follows along the line of grunts as they move the tubs deeper into the building. It’s mostly derelict and destroyed, the glass of the shopfronts smashed and cracks running through the ornate flooring. Each of the stores we pass has been gutted, though I doubt they’re giving the products to their soldiers or loyalists. Resistance don’t take care of their own, let alone those in need. They take whatever they can for themselves and blame the less fortunate for their own struggles.
When Kieran’s mouth-running starts to distract me from Azrael’s hunt, I cut him off with a snarl, “What the fuck is your problem, Black? Someone attacked Gryph, and I’m making sure it doesn’t happen again; end of story. Everyone has lost their fucking spines—did the girl bewitch you as well? North and Gryph losing their good sense, I understand, but you? Fuck,who would’ve thought that Giftless speck of nothing was this alluring.”
He stares at me for a second before he shakes his head at me in a way that sets my teeth on edge. “I’m as happy about her being here as you are?—”
“I highly doubt that, Black?—”
He explodes, arms flinging out like he’s trying not to swing at me. “It doesn’t fucking matter, Draven. You’re going to get my Team killed!”