Page 122 of Visions, Paws, and Claws

One of the guards approached the truck, a flashlight aimed at Crank’s face, then Roadkill’s. “Hey. Haven’t seen you two here before.” His tone made it sound as though the experience wasn’t a pleasant one. Vic always said how much he loved the way Saul and Crank smelled, yet here was this asshole, wrinkling his nose as if they were covered in shit.

“Yeah, we only started with the company this week. Told us we had an ‘early delivery.’” Crank air-quoted, wearing a suitably grumpy expression and acting as though he hadn’t noticed the guy’s manner.

The guard laughed. “Sounds as if you drew the short straw. I think I drew the same one. Fourth time I’ve done this shift in two weeks. Someone around here obviously doesn’t like my face.”

Okay, maybe he wasn’t allthatbig an asshole if he was attempting a little conversation. Then Crank reasoned that being a slightly less obnoxious shifter than the rest of them didn’t alter the balance a whole lot.

He raised his gun and aimed it. “You wanna know something?Idon’t like your face either. So put down your weapon before I rearrange it with this.” Roadkill got out and took down the other guy with a tranq dart.

The guard lowered his rifle, and Crank gave a nod of approval. “Now raise the barrier, and kill the power to the fence.” When the guard hesitated, Crank aimed for the dead center of his forehead. “Did I stutter? Drop the weapon and do as you’re fucking told.”

The guard did as instructed, and Crank followed him to the small control booth, his gun in the guy’s back. “Make a wrong move and I paint this closet with your guts, you got that?”

“Got it.” The guard pressed one switch and the barrier rose into the air. Then he pressed another and a loud beep sounded. “That means the fence is off.” He reached toward another switch.

Crank shot him in the neck with a tranq dart. “Unfortunately for you, I know that’s the alarm.” He waited until the guard had dropped to the ground before tapping his earpiece mic. “Saul, Johan, we’re in business.”

Roadkill drove the truck through the gate, and Crank went around the back to open the doors. One by one, the team got out, and Crank pointed in the direction of the barracks.

First task was to take down every last fucking guard.

They crept through the darkened compound, and Crank heard other sounds, cutting metal, muted shots….

“Team A is in,” Saul told him. “Doc is heading for the medical and experimentation blocks. Airfield is secured.”

“Copy that.”

“Team B is in,” Johan reported. “We’re through the fence and the guards are down. Repeat, the guards are down.”

“Copy that.” Eve’s voice filled his ear. “Team C in position at the barracks.”

Time to kick ass.

Crank waited until all teams had converged on the barracks before opening the doors to the nearest block and throwing in the flash-bang grenades, followed by the gas bombs. The brilliant white light illuminated the interior briefly, and hesignaled the teams. “They’re coming out.” He pulled on his mask, dove into the block, and kicked in the door closest to him.

In the ghostly light of the thermal imaging camera, Fielding could be seen out of bed and reaching toward his nightstand.

Crank didn’t hesitate. “Oh no you don’t, you fucker.” He fired the gun and the dart pierced Fielding’s neck, then another in his thigh, before swiping him with his arm and dropping him onto the bed. Fielding tried to remove the dart, but the damage was done.

“You won’t… get away… with—”

Crank rolled his eyes. “Would you just shut the fuck up?” He swung again, and this time Fielding went flying, out like a light. “Tier One target acquired,” he said into his mic. From all around came shouts as the guards swarmed out to be met with force. Everypopmeant another guard out, which was fine by him.

“Get Fielding to the airfield. The Chinooks are on their way, and once it’s no longer needed for air cover, one of the Apaches will land. You go in that,” Saul told him.

“Copy that.” Crank hoisted Fielding onto his shoulder and strode out of the block, through the still forms of guards who lay on the ground, unconscious.

“Barrack two secured,” Johan messaged.

“Barrack three secured.” That was Roadkill.

“We’ve got unfriendlies trying to escape through the windows in barrack four,” Eve yelled. “Be on the lookout.”

“Copy that,” Johan replied. “Deerling to Air Control, you copy this?”

The air was filled with the sound of whirring blades. Spotlights pierced the dark as the Apaches hovered above the compound, and shots rang out.

Crank wasn’t about to mourn the deaths of a few idiots. Shit, if they ran, they had to take the consequences.

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