Page 173 of The Wild Charge

Ian led the way to a corner – to a place where a pair of white doors were markedKitchen. He halted, and turned to face them, and that was when Tenny realized the rest of the guards were fanned behind him, and Fox, Devin, and Abe, blocking them from prying eyes.

Behind Ian, one of the kitchen doors cracked open, and Topino peeked through. “We’re ready.”

Ian smiled – and then he met Tenny’s gaze. Locked onto it. “Godspeed, darling,” he said.

Tenny was the first through the door, nearly trampling Topino in his haste. The kitchen was huge and industrial, and empty save for Lean Dogs, including Albie and Maverick. A boxy, silver food cabinet stood open, and inside were their guns, and vests, their helmets and goggles and radios.

Heedless of modesty, Tenny stripped down to his underwear and donned t-shirt, tac pants, and combats. Strapped on his knives, and his guns. Added a tactical jacket, and his flak vest. More guns, more knives. His helmet and its goggles. His pockets and his belt were full of useful goodies: flash-bangs, smoke grenades, zip-ties, bandages, sedatives, morphine tabs, betadine, brass knuckles, a blackjack, telescoping baton, extra gloves, and a wealth of spare magazines. Pounds and pounds of equipment, an entire arsenal. But he didn’t feel complete until he glanced up and found his rifle held out in offering. He took it, its weight settling in his gloved palms with a sense of completion.Finally.Now. Now he was ready.

He glanced up, and saw that it was Pongo who’d offered it to him, smiling through his freckles.

“Good luck, man. Go get ‘em.”

Tenny clipped the rifle to the strap around his neck, and waited forgo.

~*~

The lanterns had been placed on overturned plastic milk crates; some minutes ago – hours, maybe – Gray had removed a lantern and sat down on one, the tense line of his shoulders slowly relaxing.

“No,” he said, shaking his head, “we never did. We worked an op at a college, though.”

“Did you?”

“Yeah,” Gray continued, brightening. There was color in his cheeks and a spark in his eyes. He seemed to be enjoying their impromptu conversation.

The strain on Reese’s arms was spreading, darts of pain zinging through his spine, echoing down in his ribs and hips. Sweat slipped down the back of his neck, and beaded at his temples. The pain set his teeth on edge, and it was an effort to speak – one he made, because he thought it might mean something, in the end, connecting with this sad, lost boy who clearly feared his older brother.

“Our mark was in a finance course, and it was in this big auditorium, and we–”

Somewhere beyond the plastic, a metal door clanged shut.

Gray jerked upright, face flaring surprise, then blanking over; a marionette yanked upright and smoothed down on impulse. He stood, as footfalls moved toward them.

Not Hunter. Reese knew his stride too well to mistake it for anyone else’s.

The plastic shifted aside dramatically, and Jax stepped through, a length of slim, metal pipe propped over one shoulder.

Reese knew exactly what that was for. His insides tightened – and then loosened when pain and fatigue made maintaining that level of tension impossible. He was failing, he knew. Fading. Just lifting his head to meet Jax’s gaze left the room spinning.

Jax made brief, cold eye contact, and then rounded on his brother. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“N-nothing. I brought him water, like Dad said.”

Dad. The word landed like a blow against the inside of Reese’s mind.

Tenny’s voice, in his head:Is he your father?

He still didn’t know. Had never known.

“Water?” Jax sneered. “You’ve been gone two hours.”

Gray edged backward a step. “I didn’t – I wasn’t–”

Jax swung the pipe down off his shoulder. It whistled as it parted the air, but Gray dodged it, swirled away, and came up panting.

“I’m sorry,” Gray said. “I’ll go back down.”

Jax aimed the end of the pipe at him. “You’ll wait right there. Watch and learn.” He turned, then, and locked eyes with Reese again. “What sorta shit have you been filling his head with?”

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