Love in the Land of Fire, Brochu, Rebecca [best free novels .txt] 📗

Rafe.

Rafe.

Frisch has Rafe and Josiah knows that if they don’t find him quickly Frisch will kill him to keep anyone else from having him.

6Chapter Fifteen

Josiah doesn’t register the ride back to his apartment; it passes him by in a blur of shapes outside his transport’s windows and a tight knuckled grip on the steering wheel. When he finally pulls into view he’s out of the vehicle as soon as he’s in the parking area, not even bothering to shut it off or lock it down. It’s not important right now. What’s important is finding out whether or not Gar is right, if Rafe really has been taken.

He charges up the stairs, ignoring the slower moving elevator in favor of keeping himself moving, and skids into the hallway. It’s almost like déjà vu, the feeling he gets when he sees his apartment door partially ajar, almost but not quite since even from a distance he can see the way the wood is buckled inwards, obviously smashed open by force. There’s a nearly silent creaking noise inside that captures his attention and quietly, almost dreading what he’ll find inside, Josiah unholsters his pistol and steps through the doorway. He’s face to barrel with a high caliber rifle as soon as he steps across the threshold, and he feels his shoulders relax slightly as he lowers his own weapon.

“Gar.”

“Josiah.”

“You know you can lower Boo now, right?”

“Oh, right, my apologies.”

Their exchange would have been amusing if Josiah wasn’t hanging onto his control by the skin of his teeth.

Still even if it doesn’t exactly lighten the mood it does make Josiah feel as if his feet are planted firmly on the ground now. Gar’s here in the flesh, which means that he has all intentions of backing Josiah up personally.

He would have never shown up otherwise.

Gar lowers his beloved rifle, putting it back into place across his shoulder as carefully as he always does, and Josiah gets his first real look at the man in years.

Gar’s not changed any; he’s the same tall, leanly muscled ghost that he’s always been. His hair is a shaggy mess of black spikes that fall down far enough to cover his oricula from sight and still look like they’ve never actually seen a brush before. It’s always been his eyes that truly attract attention however. His right eye is a clear bright blue, while the left is a deep dark brown. The contrast is startling, giving Gar’s stare an almost unsettling depth that takes time to get used to. Even after all the years they’d spent together in the dark, dirty war zones of the world Gar’s eyes can still throw even Josiah for a moment before he shakes it off.

They move forward together as one, hands wrapping around each other’s forearms in a sign of greeting and solidarity. Josiah knows that Gar is more than aware of the fact that the situation is delicate and that time is of the essence and his appreciation for his presence grows tenfold. When he turns an expectant look on the other man he isn’t surprised by how easily they slip back into the roles they’d filled while serving together, and Gar begins to give him a quick rundown of the situation. Josiah forces himself to remain calm, to take deep even breathes and approach this situation like he would have any other operation with the Crimson Elite.

If he isn’t careful, Rafe is dead anyways.

“The charge that was set off was a short lived EMP pulse designed to temporarily knock down anything with an electrical charge. It dissipated approximately ten minutes before your arrival. According to what my 6network managed to pick up before the blackout there were five intruders, all moderately armed and moving with intent. I’ve had eyes and ears around you for weeks now but I was too far out to be able to get here in time to stop any of it. I’m sorry for that, Josiah.”

Gar’s voice is deep and husky and apologetic, but Josiah doesn’t blame him. If it weren’t for Gar he’d have no hope of ever getting Rafe back. It was Gar’s information he’d passed to Marcel and it was Gar’s call that had alerted him to the fact that Rafe was no longer where he was supposed to be. Josiah just shakes his head at Gar and motions for him to continue talking while he moves past him down the hallway and into the rest of his apartment.

“I’ve got a search program running right now that’ll be able to tell us if any one of them have been anywhere near a still functioning camera. If they show their faces we’ll know about it.”

Josiah can see evidence of a struggle as soon as he steps into the living room. The couch is flipped onto its back, and the coffee table is reduced to a twisted metal frame and broken glass. It gets worse as he continues on down the hallway towards the bedroom he’d shared with Rafe just hours before. There are holes in the walls, chunks of plaster missing and large gouges in the paint of other areas. The room itself is destroyed, clothes and glass everywhere, the drawers from the dresser flung across the room to shatter against the opposite wall. It looks like a war zone.

Gar’s voice calls out to him from the next room over, the one he’d decorated for Rafe’s personal use, so Josiah turns on his heel and makes his way over. When he gets there he finds Gar crouched over a body, hand flying over the screen of his p.a.t.c.h, face blank and eyes focused. Gar makes a pleased sound in the back of his throat and stands back up, and Josiah notices that the p.a.t.c.h he’s operating isn’t actually his own. Gar’s is still docked in