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Hawthorne’s PI.

Hawthorne’s Investigators = Dylan Hawthorne, Davies, Max, Niko, London, Booth, Jase, Arturo, Nick, Casey, Kele, Makia, Chappie, Vinnie Jessie, Colm, Nyx, Indigo Enzo, Beckett, Wilder and Wolfe.

Dylan Hawthorne

D ylan’s ass was moving before he was even aware of it. The moment the siren had sounded, he grabbed his two radios and headed for the weapon lock-up.

His entire team was here, all twenty-one of them plus himself, which made twenty-two. They had been given a small zone to hold. They were holding the Old Folsom Road, which linked with state highways forty-four and seventy-nine. Howser didn’t think they’d see much action there, but he still wanted the area covering.

He glanced up as, ahead of him, Davies opened the door to the weapon room. Already waiting was Chappie, Makia, and his older twin, Kele and Jase. As soon as the alert had gone out days ago from an unexpected source, Dylan had recalled all his team.

Boots stomped, and Nyx appeared, ready in combats with a murderous look in her eye.

“They’re seriously fuckin’ here?” she demanded.

Colm glanced across at her and winced.

“Yeah, Nyx,” Dylan replied.

“Let’s fuck some people up, boss,” Nyx stated. She turned and high-fived Indigo, who grinned.

“I agree.” Indigo smiled.

Dylan shook his head. Whereas Nyx dressed like a merc, black tee, combats, and boots, Indigo was the opposite, wearing dress pants, a soft silk blouse, and she looked like a housewife. A stunningly beautiful housewife, which made her perfect for honey traps and to catch cheating spouses. Both women had been out on long-term jobs, but they’d brought them to an end two weeks ago.

Dylan glanced up as brothers Wilder and Wolfe entered, with London and Booth on their heels.

“Get your weapons and hit the vehicles. Everyone remember the plan? Good, roll out,” Dylan said.

They’d all packed their own weapons bag, and their SUVs and cars also held bags full of weapons. Howser hadn’t expected them to face high resistance, but Dylan did. Because Old Folsom Rd was not a main route in, it would be natural to think it wouldn’t be protected. That would be Fury’s mistake.

Every route, minor or major, had a team on it.

As Dylan slung his bag in the boot and swung up next to Davies, the sirens continued to scream. People ran as they passed them, heading home or towards shelter. Shops were locking down, and Dylan shook his head. He radioed in and spoke to their liaison, and confirmed they were on route. Leila and Dana had been moved to the refuge hotel alongside his team’s families.

Cars were starting to block the road, and Davies had to force his way through several jams, holding them up. The public announcement was ordering people to keep the roads clear to the emergency responders could reach their zones.

Dylan looked at the panic on the streets and shook his head. While the majority headed home, there were always some determined to be assholes.

Dylan couldn’t worry about them as they reached their holding point. There weren’t many buildings, but cover had been provided. Busses, dumpsters, and container boxes had been placed here several days ago. All that was required was to move the buses across the road to block it.

Davies, Max, Niko, and Nick all drove the four buses into position and Hawthorne’s took their places. Each of them was heavily armed. They also each held a carrier bag full of weapons .

Gunshots erupted in the distance, and Dylan tensed. The gunshots doubled and were followed by explosions. He’d no idea what was happening but trusted his allies.

“Got bike pipes in zone four,” he called in.

“Received, Dylan,” Congressman Andrew Wainwright replied.

Dylan snorted. There was a fucking congressman on his radio doing his part for his state. Dylan blew his cheeks out as he noticed a party of bikes riding towards them. He cricked his neck and counted down with his fingers. Dylan wasn’t even going to give them a warning. There were too fuckin’ many of them.

His fist closed, and his people opened fire. The Venomous Fangs in front took bullets and skidded and hit the road as those behind slowed or took evasive action.

Dylan let his team fire for a few more minutes before holding his hand up.

They stopped, and Dylan grabbed a megaphone.

“We will defend our city. Turn around and leave. Otherwise, prepare to die,” Dylan called out.

“Prepare to die?” Davies asked in disbelief. “What are you? The fuckin’ Terminator?”

“Shut it, you damn asshole!” Dylan snapped and ducked as the Fangs answered with a round of shots.

“Death it is!” Dylan yelled. “Open fire at will!”

It was chaos. Even though they had cover, they were still taking heavy fire.

“Fall back!” Davies suddenly screamed. Dylan grabbed his bag as his people began running to the second line of cover.

An explosion blasted Dylan sideways. He hit the ground hard but got up and looked slightly stunned.

“Grenades!” Vinnie yelled and spun around, hitting the floor as bullets tore through his vest. Armour-piercing bullets, Dylan realised.

Davies was dragging Niko, while Indigo and Wolfe were pulling Chappie towards the second row of containers and busses. Dylan’s gaze kept flicking to Vinnie, and he watched as Booth came out of the smoke, his face blackened and limping, but he ducked and grabbed Vinnie. Booth roared as he slung Vinnie over his shoulder and headed towards shelter. As soon as his people were behind cover, Dylan raced to join them.

How he didn’t get hit, he didn’t know, but somebody was looking out for him.

“Call out!” Dylan yelled.

His team called out until Davies replied, “I’m here, but we’ve lost Niko and Vinnie. Chappie has an arterial bleed. Beckett is calling in the ambo.”

Shock flooded Dylan.

Niko was gone. The man who’d joined him when he opened the PI company, was dead. Dylan’s mind touched on Vinnie’s laugh and the tricks he’d play in the office. But he couldn’t dwell on them as the Venomous Fangs began firing again.

“Open fire,” Dylan yelled as he clicked his radio. “Andrew, two dead, Niko and Vinnie, one on the way to hospital. ”

“Roger that,” Andrew replied.

Dylan switched off. He concentrated on shooting anything that moved; the Fangs had cost him two of his own.

“Jase is down!” Nyx screamed as sirens wailed behind them.

“Get Jase and Chappie out of here,” Dylan demanded. He was down six guys already.

Emergency responders couldn’t approach as orders kept them from the gunfire. They’d set up points to collect the wounded and dead. But to his surprise, it came in close, and he saw it was a heavily armoured Army carrier.

Two men in combat uniforms opened the doors, and London carried Jase and then Chappie over. Max ran Vinnie’s body to them, and London followed with Niko.

Dylan didn’t look as the ambo pulled out and continued firing instead. The Fangs had been cut in half, but Dylan had taken four losses. Bodies lay on the ground in front of him, and yet they kept coming.

A startled cry near him saw Jessie hit the floor with a bullet through his throat. Jessie held his gaze as he choked on his own blood before his eyes closed.

Dylan yelled and rummaged in his bag for grenades. He launched them one after another in sheer rage.

His people were dying for what? An asshole’s false claim of ownership. Never before had Dylan felt so inadequate. He was swamped by an unprecedented hatred .

Dylan grabbed a machine gun and, roaring his pain, stood and fired like a madman.

Men fell in front of him as people shot back, but their bullets still missed him. Behind Dylan, Hawthornes upped their attack as Fangs scrabbled for cover. It was sickening that they were piling their own dead on top of each other and using them for cover.

He stayed there until his clip ran out and dived behind the barrier again.

There was so much blood on his hands he didn’t know if he’d ever get them clean. All he could ask was why?

Davies

Why did they keep fuckin’ coming? Over half of them were dead, and yet they still fought. This couldn’t be loyalty to Fury. This was more. It did not make sense. What type of men did this?

Davies saw desperation in some of their eyes, others held resignation, and some a feverish desire to maim and kill. He watched as a group that had congregated suddenly broke free and ran for their bikes. In horror, he watched as another group turned and shot them in the back.

“You fight or die!” a man with blackened teeth yelled.

“Did you see that?” Nick gasped, horrified .

Davies began to nod when blood splattered his face.

Nick blinked at him once and then toppled sideways. Davies didn’t bother checking for a pulse; a bullet had taken Nick straight through the eye. His friend was dead.

Davies glanced across and saw Dylan staring. He couldn’t read Dylan’s expression, but he knew his boss was hurting. Davies did not dare tell him that Colm had also fallen. He didn’t think Dylan could handle more death.

“Fuck!” Nyx yelled, and Davies noticed her hand-to-hand fighting a Fang. Nyx spun and shot him in the head, but another stepped up.

Booth leapt forward and shot the guy, and Davies realised they’d a breach.

Wilder collapsed with a bullet to his leg as men came through a gap that had opened. But the fucking idiots had created a bottleneck, and Hawthornes began picking them off as they poured through.

Enzo stood over Wilder, protecting him as they both shot at the Fangs.

“They’re running!” London yelled as a team of about twenty broke off and fled. Those in the bottleneck they’d made themselves, died, as a second team ran. That was ten men less.

“Should we shoot them?” Indigo asked.

“Shooting them in the back ain’t sporting, Indy,” Makia chided.

“Do I look like I care about that?” Indigo replied and began firing at those remaining .

“Ambo needed,” Dylan announced, and Davies glanced across.

He was back firing at the enemy, but Davies knew this had taken a toll on him. Dylan Hawthorne would never be the same man again.

Dylan

He called in the further deaths and injuries and took another blow. Jase had been DOA. Only about thirty Fangs remained now.

Dylan lifted his megaphone. “You’ve lost over two hundred men. You will not breach us. Throw your weapons down and surrender—or die. I honestly don’t give a shit which.”

Somebody fired at him, and he ducked low behind a dumpster.

Die then, he thought.

“We surrender!” someone announced, and a Fang stood up and held his hands up.

Before anyone could reply or act, another Fang shot him.

“Fuck!” Arturo breathed, looking stunned.

“Ain’t surprised,” Davies commented.

“We don’t wanna die for your stupid president’s war and ego,” another Fang yelled.

Dylan watched as the Venomous Fangs fought amongst themselves. Finally, ten more men lay dead, and twenty-three stood with their hands up .

“We surrender,” a man called.

“Cover me,” Dylan said, yanking out a load of zip-ties. He moved out, ready to dive to the side should one show aggression. “Spread out and drop your weapons.”

Dylan reached the first and used him as a barrier between him and the other Fangs. He patted him down and then zip-tied his hands behind his back.

“You, come here,” Dylan called, pointing at one. As soon as he was next to the cuffed one, Dylan stepped behind him and repeated his movements. He’d no qualms about using them as body shields. Davies was copying his actions, as was Arturo. Finally, the twenty-three were cuffed, and Dylan made them sit down before they all tied their ankles, too.

“Andrew, we’ve got prisoners here,” he called.

“The Devil’s Scythes have a building they’re using as a jail. I’ll call for a bus to transport them.”

“Need ambos. Two more were injured. Enzo and Wilder,” Dylan stated.

“On the way,” Andrew confirmed.

“Please confirm Hawthorne’s dead,” Dylan requested.

“Dylan—”

“Confirm my dead,” Dylan snapped.

“Niko, Jase, Nick, Vinnie, Jessie, and Colm. Chappie is critical but expected to survive, and Enzo and Wilder are wounded pending assessment,” Andrew said quietly.

“Thanks. We had Fangs flee. We need back up; I’ve only thirteen fit personnel. ”

“We have extra army coming in, we’ll send to you. As soon as relief arrives, go to the hospital,” Andrew ordered.

“Ten-four,” Dylan repeated. Six dead. Six good men killed. He didn’t have time to grieve. He needed to defend this position until relieved. Dylan had a mission and would see it through.

He could see the grief hitting his people.

“Snap out of it. We are not out of this yet. We gotta hold this position. Check these fuckers are dead, if they ain’t, put a bullet in their head. If you can’t do that, call me, because I can. We don’t want them ambushing us. Stock up on weapons. Nyx and Kele, watch out for any return of the Fangs.”

His team began moving around. Occasionally, gunfire punctuated the silence. It wasn’t silent, though; the fire roared from where the Fangs had blown up the first barrier. Sirens wailed across the city, and explosions boomed. The battle for Rapid City was in full force still.

Dylan looked at movement behind them and raised his gun.

“Easy boy, we are here to help. I’m Clive,” a man announced, carrying a shotgun. “Took us some time to sort ourselves out, but we’re here to help.”

“The fight’s over, we think. At least it is here.”

“Then you don’t mind if we join you. Here, the women put this together. Sit and drink, we’ll stand guard,” the guy said.

Dylan looked at the thirty civilians around them.

“Thanks,” he muttered. He took the bottle of water he was handed and called his team in.

A shotgun blast made him jump, and he spun round and saw Clive stood over a body. “Weren’t dead and went for a gun.” Clive kicked a weapon away from the Fang.

“Shit,” Dylan murmured.

“Here, sit down and eat. There’s coffee and water. Come on, you need to replenish your energy,” a woman said, approaching.

“Thanks,” Davies replied.

“No, thank you, because those assholes would have ridden through here and killed us all,” Clive boomed from where he stood. “You’re all heroes, son.”

Funny, Dylan thought. He didn’t feel anything like one. He felt exhausted and had a powerful urge to visit his wounded men.