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

lost all right to consideration by the law. Enforcers are charged with protecting the people and are authorized to use deadly force in more situations than the public seems to realize.

“Lead Enforcer Eagan, you should also know that there’s a corpse in Josiah’s apartment. His boy’s apparently a bit harsher than any of us gave him credit for.” Gar’s voice is distracted but slightly amused, his eyes and fingers still flying over the screen of his p.a.t.c.h as he sorts through and discards information at 6lightning speed.

“Great, just what we all need, another Marx floating around the area. I’ll dispatch someone to process the scene. As for backup I’ve got a full squad assembled and heading in your direction, but they’re going to be a while, longer than I’m sure either of you are willing to wait. Just try not to get yourselves killed, either of you. I really don’t want to deal with the paperwork.”

Eagan signs off without another word and Josiah knows that his commanding officer is diving head first into the storm. He’s more than happy to leave all of the red tape to Eagan in this instance. He’ll deal with the aftermath when he has to and if anyone has a problem with his shooting Frisch, because he’s eighty percent sure that it’s going to end like that and he’s looking forward to it, then they can take it up with him later.

Grim faced and determined, Josiah pushes his transport even harder, watching the speed gauge climb higher and higher with cold satisfaction. It won’t be long now and he’ll have Frisch’s throat between his hands.

He’d just better hope that Rafe is alive or Josiah knows ways to make a person wish for death and he can only pity anyone who’s foolish enough to try and stop him.

6Chapter Sixteen

The warehouse in the distance is new, obviously recently erected and well put together. Josiah pulls his eye away from Boo’s scope before handing the rifle back to Gar carefully. Even in this situation he knows better than to handle Boo with anything less than reverence.

“We’ve got four on the outside and no sign of any movement near any of the windows. You take them down and then we’ll go in hard. Back up’s still twenty minutes out and I’m not inclined to wait for them.”

“You’ve never really been inclined to wait on back up. That’s why you’re Vanguard.”

Josiah smirks slightly before he turns to make his way down the ladder that’s attached to the rooftop they’re currently perched on. Gar stays behind, a secure channel open between them as he sets up his equipment so they can begin their operation. He slinks through the alleyways of the neighboring warehouses, careful to keep to the shadows, his electric pistol in hand and rapier thrown securely around his waist. He stills when he’s finally in place, eyes locked on the back entrance, ready if there are more hostiles than they’d previously been aware of and trusting Gar to handle the front entrance.

It starts between one second and the next; Josiah hears the nearly silent sound of Gar chambering a round, a quiet snick, and then there is yelling and the sound of running feet and Gar’s voice is in his ear growling out his code for a successful take down.

“Scratch.”

The next three happen in quick succession, Gar growling out his code word back to back, each one within seconds of the other until all four of the guards that they’d counted are dead. Josiah goes to speak, goes to make the call for Gar to come down from his perch when the door in front of him bursts open. Four more guards, their presence previously unknown, pour out of the building. Instead he raises his hand to his ear and gives Gar new orders, his voice low and tight, a part of him anticipating the fight. He’s more than capable of taking down four on his own but he knows better than to underestimate any situation.

“Skirmisher, I’ve got eyes on four more hostiles. Reposition and provide support. Vanguard shall engage.”

“Affirmative, Vanguard, repositioning.”

Josiah steps out of the shadows of the warehouse, hands steady and pistol ready and when the first guard turns in his direction, weapon drawn, he puts an electrically charged bullet between his eyes. Josiah’s moving before the body even hits the ground, throwing himself down behind a stack of crates and lining up his next shot in seconds. Another body hits the ground but the remaining two have found cover and begin to return fire with a vengeance.

He ducks out from behind his cover, intent on taking down the remaining opposition, but the gunfire abruptly halts and there’s the quiet hiss of Gar’s voice in his ear.

“Double scratch. Game, match.”

Josiah straightens slowly, eyes scanning the area but confident that the coast is clear. Gar would have never called the cost clear otherwise.

“Rendezvous in three.”

6He slides up beside the now open door, impatient but determined to wait on Gar’s arrival. He’s checking over his equipment, making sure that everything is functional, when a scream reaches out past the open door and grips him by the heart.

Rafe.

He’s moving before his brain catches up with him, rushing through the doorway and around the various stacks of crates and barrels, ears trained to the horrifying sound of Rafe screaming in pain. He’s deaf to anything else, unable to truly register Gar’s voice in his ear, or the fact that he can hear the other man pounding across the warehouse floor somewhere behind him.

He skids to a halt a few moments later, eyes trained on the glass and metal plated wall and the engaged intercom that’s broadcasting the room’s sounds to him. Rafe screams again and Josiah’s eyes snap up and focus on a sight that makes his body go still and his mind blank with rage.