Act of Command: An Immortal Ops World Novel (PSI-Ops / Immortal Ops Book 4) (16 page)

“You think something happened to him, don’t you?”

Ezra offered a curt nod. “I have to say you’re one of the few people in my long life who can do that—who can read me. I’m not really a fan of it.”

Alice shrugged again as if it was no big deal. “Never met a guy who could shift into a dragon. Hell, I didn’t think dragons were ever real.”

“Most people assume werewolves aren’t real,” replied Ezra. “And I think Brad would be the first to dispute that claim.”

“I’m a lycan,” he said, posturing. He wasn’t bitten, dammit. There was a difference.

Ezra glanced at him. “You’re a hell of a lot more than just a lycan now after the Corporation got their hands on you and you know it.”

“The Corporation?” he asked and then stepped back. “The people who took me to start with?”

Ezra spoke, “I was planted with them, in one of their German facilities to start with. It became clear I was needed on this end more.”

Alice stepped closer to Ezra and handed him the glasses. “Tell Brad about the Shadow Agent Ops thing.”

Groaning, Ezra eyed her. “Announce it to everyone, why don’t you, little succubus?”

She was a succubus?

She looked him over. “Like he’s going to tell them. He wants them dead as much as me. Maybe more.”

Ezra stared in Brad’s direction. “I’m guessing much,
much
more, Alice. Brad has been held against his will nearly a year, at least from what I can tell by his paper trail.”

Brad touched the glass. “Do you know about Vic or Kimberly?”

Ezra glanced at the door and then back to the window. “Vic is still being held by the Corporation. They have him buried deep in one of the black sites. I suspect they intended the same for you, but you were liberated from their holding station.”

Liberated?

One bad situation to another was more like it. And odds were, he’d be auctioned off to the fucking Corporation and end up right back where he started from. “I’m not going back.”

“Didn’t think you’d want to,” said Ezra.

“Kimberly?” he asked, needing to know about his friend.

“Kimberly has been free for months. That is all I know. I’ve been in too deep to keep up on it all.”

Exhaling, Brad put his head against the glass. Kimberly was safe. Good. At least one of them had made it out. He looked to Ezra. “Get Mae and Alice out of here no matter the cost. Use me as a diversion if need be. I want them safe.”

“You don’t even know me,” snapped Alice. “Why would you sacrifice yourself for me? Are you stupid?”

“I still want you safe.”

Ezra stood tall. “I want all of you safe.”

Brad didn’t bother to get his hopes up. They’d been dashed far too many times in the past to bother and his spirit couldn’t take another letdown.

The door to Mae’s cell opened and another of the guards appeared. “Ezra, we have a problem. Something is happening at the other facility. Felix has given the green light on Operation Red.”

As Ezra tensed, Brad knew what Operation Red was. It was the call to eliminate all the prisoners. He’d heard the term used before. Ezra nodded and held a hand up. “Go to the main room. I’ll be there in a minute. I’ll deal with these two myself.”

The guard left and Ezra grabbed Alice’s arm. “Alice, you need to listen to Brad. Caesar isn’t responding to my calls, and with what Felix ordered, I know something bad has happened to him.” He looked to Brad. “Alice, I’m going to trust Brad to get you out of here.”
 

She stiffened.

Ezra kept his gaze on Brad. “I’m unlocking you. Can I trust you with her?”

“I’m not leaving this place without Mae,” said Alice, her stubbornness showing.

Ezra held her firmly. “An operative I trust is with her. I need to get there and make sure he’s come out of the drugs given to him before any of these assholes decide to start the killings with him. The two of you need to get out. If Felix has Caesar, he’ll find a way to break him. It’s what he does. Caesar is strong, but not that strong.”

Brad moved to the door of his cell and waited. It opened and Ezra was there, holding Alice. He thrust the woman at Brad. “Take her and go.”

Alice huffed.

Ezra snatched the glasses from her hand. “Mae will need these.”

“I’m not leaving without my friend,” pressed Alice, her temper showing.

Brad and Ezra locked gazes and there was no question of what had to be done. If Brad didn’t get Alice out of the place, she’d be killed. He wasn’t going to allow that to happen. Bending, he grabbed her and flung her over his shoulder, the smell of her washing over him, exciting his shifter side as well as the man.

She shouted and hit at his back with her tiny fists. “Put me down!”

He swatted her backside and she yelped. “Silence, woman. I’m getting you out of here.”

Ezra nodded and then pointed in the opposite direction. “Left, right and then two lefts. An exit is there. I have a safe house not far from here.” He gave the address and then cast a worried look at Alice.

“Copy that,” said Brad, moving quickly with Alice over his shoulder. He wasn’t far when sirens went off, hurting his sensitive hearing. He winced and had to set Alice down for a moment to gather his bearings. He feared she might run or try to rip his nuts off too.

She eased closer to him. “Brad?”

He swayed, the pain in his head great. Whatever the Corporation had done had intensified all his shifter aspects. The alarms felt as if they were loud enough to pierce his eardrums.

Alice was suddenly there, her hands over his ears, her face before his. The woman was stunning. Her gaze locked on his and it was if she was turning down the volume around them. He knew better. Knew she couldn’t be, but still, her presence helped him gain control.

She gasped and twisted. As she did, Brad realized they were no longer alone and the men descending upon them were not friendlies. With a roar, he pulled Alice behind him protectively and went at the guards. They rammed him with a shock stick. He’d been hit with them before. They were charged with volts of electricity. Enough to drop a shifter male. But Brad was no ordinary shifter male and he wasn’t about to let them near Alice.

He swung and knocked one off his feet. His charger dropped and Alice grabbed it, jabbing it at the man nearest her. Brad twisted, expecting the little minx to light him up too. She didn’t. She touched under his nose and came away with blood.

He couldn’t worry about his body right now or how long it would hold up. He had to get her out. He grabbed her free hand and spun, following the path Ezra had told him to take. They made it several more paces before gunfire erupted. Brad threw Alice against the wall, shielding her, taking a couple of bullets.

He winced but didn’t go down. He couldn’t. He had to get the woman to safety.
 

My woman
, he thought.

The bullets continued and he felt the smallest of pinches in his legs and side. Ignoring the pain, he looked down at the redhead pinned to the wall to be sure she was safe.

He was about to ask when the compound rocked, the telltale sound of grenades sounding. Brad seized the moment to yank Alice from the wall and rush her down the hall, taking the last turn Ezra had told him would lead to freedom.

“You’re bleeding!” yelled Alice a second before heat swelled around them.

Chapter Sixteen

Striker nodded as Malik threw up the hand signal to enter the compound. Boomer tossed a flash grenade and the men went in hard, weapons out, ready to drop anyone who got between them and their teammate. It had taken them a bit to catch Corbin’s scent near the docks. His SUV was nowhere to be found. Once they’d caught the faint scent of their captain, the men had combined their tracking skills and figured out quickly that Corbin had engaged the enemy and had killed a few from the looks of the blood on the scene. From there, they’d tracked Corbin’s scent to the building they were now breaching.

Malik went first, and the men took turns, securing a spot, giving the signal to advance to the next man and so forth. Bounding forward, a well-oiled unit, having done similar insertions too many times to count in their long careers together. Within seconds they met with resistance and dealt with it accordingly.
 

Malik took down the first threat and Striker handled the next. Boomer slid up next to him and grinned as he held another grenade. The werepanther had too much love of anything that exploded. He probably should have seen a professional about it.

He threw it down the hall and laughed as it exploded, sending more of the enemy scattering out like rats. Boomer smiled. “Like fish in a barrel.”
 

“You worry me,” said Striker, shaking his head.

Malik glanced over his shoulder, his dark gaze landing on them both. “Imagine how I feel with the two of you at my back.”

Boomer and Striker shared a look and flashed wide smiles, making Malik groan. He motioned to the split in the hall ahead. “I’ll go in search of the woman and any other captives.”

Striker nodded. They’d cover more ground split up, and each was armed enough to deal with just about anything. Besides, this was hardly their first mission. “I’ll find the captain and whoever else may be near him.”

Boomer grinned. “I’ll set charges to blow this place when we’re done. Twenty minutes, okay?”

“Och, we do nae need twenty minutes.”

Malik grunted. “Give us twenty minutes.”

“Sounds good!” yelled Boomer as he ran off, looking far too excited to get to level the place.

Malik headed in the other direction, grinning, enjoying himself far too much. Striker moved through the halls, killing any guard who tried to stand between him and his objective—his captain.

He inhaled, catching the scent of something that burned his nose and throat. He heard it then, the sound of a really pissed-off lion roaring. Wasting no time, Striker ran in the direction of the sounds, already knowing who the lion was.

Corbin.

And he sounded fucking livid.

Striker made it to a set of doors that were pried open. Greenish smoke filtered out of the room and he coughed. He didn’t exactly want to enter the room with whatever it was in the air, but he knew without a doubt his friend was in there and needed help.

Malik came around the corner from the other end of the hall, his weapon out, his gaze locking on Striker. “I couldn’t find any signs of prisoners in that direction. Did I hear the captain’s roar?”

“Aye,” said Striker with a nod. He tipped his head towards the pried open door. Smoke continued to come out of it. “He’s in there. Whatever that is in there, it burns to breathe in.”

“Captain is still alive so it won’t kill us,” added Malik, though his expression said he wasn’t so sure. “You want to take the lead?”

“Thanks,” said Striker dryly, taking point. He moved in, crouching down, his eyes burning as he did. He spent a fair amount of time around Mercy in the labs back at headquarters and had accidently started a number of lab incidents, so he was familiar with safety protocols. Twisting, he put his hand out, feeling around the wall for anything that was like the lab at headquarters. When he found a series of buttons, hit them all. One would probably work. He hoped.

In an instant the room was bathed in some liquid that didn’t smell like water as it poured down from a sprinkler system. Exhaust fans kicked on and the fumes dissipated slowly, revealing Corbin there in the center of the huge room, partially shifted, his hands and face bloodied.

Malik came up short behind Striker. “Dear Gods.”

They’d seen Corbin do partial shifts before. They weren’t caught off guard by that. It was the pure red in his eyes. The raw, feral look on his face. He was in the throes of bloodlust, and that was bad.

Very bad.

There were guards all over in the room. Most of them were dead. The ones left standing looked scared shitless of what they were witnessing.

Malik lifted his weapon and aimed at a guard. Striker glanced to the side of the room, past a mound of broken glass and spotted a crumpled pile on the floor. It took him a minute to realize the pile was a woman. Not just any woman. The one from the pictures he’d seen in the dorm room.

Mae.

He pushed on the end of Malik’s weapon, forcing him to lower it. “No. Look. ‘Tis his woman there. Do nae take his kills. This is his right.”

Malik looked in the direction Striker was pointing and gasped. “We’re not going to be able to pull him back from this.”

“Shut up and do nae draw his attention to us just yet.”

“Did you find him?” yelled Boomer, entering from behind, pulling Corbin’s gaze to them. There was no recognition in their captain’s red eyes. He saw everything around him as a threat and he’d kill everyone if given the chance.

Boomer drew to a fast stop. “Sweet fucking hell. He did all this?”

Malik motioned to the woman on the floor. “Look.”

Boomer stiffened and then tipped his head. “Listen. Do you hear it?”

Corbin went at a guard near him, slicing the man’s throat.

Striker glanced at Boomer. “Hear what?”

“A heartbeat.” Boomer pointed to the woman.
 

Malik gasped. “He’s right. The woman lives.”

“I do nae think he knows as much,” said Striker, his gaze on Corbin. “Anyone want to tell him?”

Boomer bit his inner cheek. “Rock, scissors, paper?”

Malik groaned. “We’re a bit old for that.”

“Fine. I call
not it
,” added Boomer quickly.

Malik shook his head. “Me either.”

“I’m nae goin’ near him. You two do it,” said Striker to Boomer. “Yer cat shifters. You all can meow together or somethin’. Chase yarn balls or whatever it is you lot do. Scratch your claws on furniture. I do nae know what tickles you all.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out lint. “Probably nae enough for him to want to chase from the end of a string is it?”

Boomer looked at Corbin as the captain lifted a guard off the ground and yanked the man in half, letting each half fall to the floor with a loud thud. “I think we might be past the meow and yarn ball stage of things.”

“Most certainly,” added Malik.

“What about a cardboard box?” asked Striker. “Yer kind likes to play in boxes, don’t they?”