Page 7 of Draco's Fire

Shayla looked around desperately. "I want two people on that fucking stage now! Everyone else, to the abandoned building."

Two of the guys split, hitting the stage, while everyone headed out the left entrance and towards the abandoned building.

Shayla felt her anger getting the better of her. She's frustrated that they didn't see this coming and even more upset that there will be death on their hands when this is over.

Micheal was shot in the head, and he was gone. He was a part of the HOPE Foundation, and this was going to be terrible news.

One of the guys in the front kicked the door of the abandoned building down. Three of the guys ran in. Shayla took a breath, "I want updates on the guys."

"Micheal is gone." One of them responded with a saddened tone, "Tyson was shot in the shoulder. It was a graze, but he is still going to need stitches. The ambulance is five minutes out."

Shayla ran a hand over her face, storming into the building. The smell of musk and mold hit her like a freight train, and she quickly covered her mouth. She coughed, heading up after her teammates.

"And Gil?" She asked into the mic, taking the stairs two at a time.

"Gil is fine. There were a few pedestrians that were hurt but nothing serious."

For now, was all she could think. She gets to the fourth floor, where the team is standing by a broken window. One of the guys turned around, shaking his head, "The shoot isn't here."

"What do you mean the shooter isn't here? Are you fucking telling me they got away?"

They all stilled but nodded their heads.

"You're telling me we not only failed in protecting, but the mother fucker got away?" She quickly turned around, kicking a loose piece of wood, and screamed.

That was just fucking perfect.

Five

Tyson

Tyson stood in the back of the funeral, watching everything from the last pew. He watched as the priest said his last few words about Micheal, stepping down from next to the casket. Tyson looked away, staring outside the window. It was a cloudy, dreary day in autumn with a slight breeze that made it chilly.

They were just finishing the service, and everyone was paying their respects to Micheal's wife, Linda. She stood off to the side of his closed casket, trying to keep a steel face. He remembered having to tell her the news, and he's never seen her in such a desperate state before.

She looked at him from across the room, her eyes beat red, and she tried to give Tyson a weak smile. He gave her a simple nod before she turned her attention to the next person speaking to her.

"This could have been a nicer day. Micheal would have liked to have the sun at least." Gil spoke up next to Tyson, sounding irritated slightly.

They could have pushed the day back, but Linda had expressed her opinion openly. He could still hear her words. He's dead, and there is no changing that. Whether we have the funeral in the rain or the shine, we still have to bury him.

"Do you think Linda will be ok?" Tyson asked, wondering. He always imagined her as someone that depended on her husband, but today she stood strong. He was proud of her.

"I think it will take time, but she will recover." Gil stopped next to Tyson. "She just needs time."

"We all do." Tyson sighed, needing to get a breath. They had been stuck inside the church all day, and he needed a break. He needed just a few minutes of silence.

He headed out the side door, stepping outside. It was cold, and he had wished for a moment he had a thicker jacket. He took in the row of cars and the line of people leaving and entering the church. He was happy to know so many people were here to pay their respect. Micheal would have liked that.

He was a little surprised to see Eidan standing by the door. He had almost forgotten he came with Gil. How long had it been since Gil adopted him anyway? It was crazy how fast time had passed.

"There you are." Tyson froze, his body tensed up at her voice. He turned around to see Shayla stepping outside. She was wearing a tight black dress that stopped at her knees, with simple black pumps. She had a light cardigan that she pulled closer to herself. Her hair was pulled back in an elegant bun, and she wore a light layer of makeup.

"I thought I lost you." She gave him a soft smile. "I wanted to pay my respects. I'm sorry about Micheal. I can only imagine how hard this must be on you and Gil."

"Thank you." Tyson leaned against the wall, watching some more people leave.

"But you do realize that if you had more detail at the rally, this could have been avoided."

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