Page 83 of Mongrels United
“I’m standing on it.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Nash broke through the trees and into the little clearing, limping heavily and breathing hard.
“Everyone,” Jack said in Grady’s ear. “Eyes peeled! We’ve got a below-ground structure. If they’re smart, they’ll have a back door. And these guys are very smart. Also, they’ll have surveillance. They’ll know Nash and Grady are standing on top of them, by now. Any movement, go to high alert. They know they’re busted. They’ll be desperate.”
“What do we do now?” Grady said. She looked at Nash, but was really speaking to Jack.
“You two play like you’re confused and giving up,” Jack said. “Let them think you’re heading home.”
“Giving up and going home sounds like a really good idea,” Nash muttered. He was replying to Jack, but it also answered Grady’s question.
“Let me look at your leg,” Grady said, trying to peer behind him.
“It’s a scratch,” Nash said dismissively.
“You’re dripping,” Grady pointed out. She pulled her shirt out of her pants and tore a strip off the hem. “Let’s try to staunch it.”
Nash held still while she tied the strip around his thigh, pulling it firmly in over the nick she could see in the back of his thigh, through the split the knife had created in his trousers.
“Yo! Back door!” someone yelled in Grady’s ear. “Movement! Lots of them.”
“Everyone but Radomil, move it! To Espino, now!!” Jack cried. “Radomil to me, and the front door. Pincer!”
Things happened very quickly after that. Grady heard lots of people running through the woods, branches slapping and snapping, twigs breaking, and the heavy, muffled sound of boots at full speed.
Then, even worse, the soft chuffing sound she had heard in the other clearing. Jack’s Guards were firing weapons.
Grady had never seen sidearms until a few days ago, when Jack had shown her the armory hidden deep inside the Guard station. “We’re trained in how to use these, from day one as a Guard,” Jack said, her gaze roving over the lethal-looking guns and rifles and other weapons that Grady didn’t know the names of, but which looked even more deadly. “We stay trained and in condition for their use, but we all hope we never have to use them.”
When the Civil Guards were patrolling the ship, among civilians, they went unarmed, except for light batons. Their physical condition and unarmed fighting skills were well known on the ship, and more than the batons had never been necessary.
Until today.
Jack had pointed to an extra long rifle. “That’s mine. I specialized early.”
“What does it do?” Grady asked, feeling queasy and curious at the same time.
Jack grinned. “You’ll see.”
Now Jack’s squad were rounding up the people trying to escape from the backdoor of the lab and using the weapons they hadn’t wanted to use.
Jack stepped through shoulder-high bushes, her very long rifle under her arm, and resting on her forearm. Her hand was not far away from the trigger, Grady noted.
At the same time, Radomil, the big, chunky corporal, stepped into the clearing from the other side of the clearing. He nodded at Jack. “Clear.”
Jack moved over to where Nash and Grady stood, and prodded at the ground with her toe.
“They’ll have seals and locks and the highest sort of security on that door,” Nash pointed out.
“That’s okay,” Jack said complacently. “We’ll just open it from the inside.”
Ten minutes later, Grady heard what Jack did, through her earpiece. “All clear, all contained, Lieutenant.”
“Open the front door soon as you can, so we can clear this place out,” Jack said. She looked at the timepiece on her wrist. “We’ve got six hours before Chief Grady has to be at the arena, looking fresh and eager to see her Mongrels win the ribbon.” She ginned at Grady.
Grady didn’t feel in the least like smiling. “That’s it? It’s done?”
