Talon: Combat Tracking Team (A Breed Apart) (42 page)

“You okay?” Cardinal asked Aspen, who seemed to wilt now that the immediate threat had been eliminated.

She gave a nod.

Lowering his gun, he bobbed his head toward Talon, who trotted toward them. “We’ll find the crates. Keep him on guard.”

Aspen nodded again, smoothing a hand along Talon’s head.

About forty canisters sat in the well. Roughly a dozen of them could hold a small import with ease. But the smaller crates numbered close to thirty and resembled the images Burnett had shared with the team. If they had to search all of them, it’d be a long night. But that’s why they had the radiation device.

Cardinal joined Rocket and Watterboy who walked the crates, waving the device over them. They rose to about shoulder height on the outside and at least twice that in the middle. Stacked carefully, the crates in the middle had the best chance of being their gold mine.

He watched, waited, all the while keeping tabs on Aspen and Talon. As the minutes ticked away, so did his patience. Those crates had been buried well within the center of this cluster. Intentionally.

Cardinal wouldn’t surrender. Not yet. Not ever.

He climbed atop the crates and started shifting them. He motioned to Candyman to give him the device. Reader in hand, he wanded the wooden crates.

The thing squawked a positive reading. He grinned and tossed the reader back. Tapping the blade of his Ka-Bar knife between the lid and the rest, he worked it in then wedged it against the wood and lifted. A loud crack echoed through the well as he lifted the top.

Candyman climbed up next to him, his shoulder lamp hitting the packaging. “Vaults. Yellow vaults. That supposed to be a clue?”

His sarcasm only served to grate on Cardinal’s nerves. Cardinal snapped the lock with a multitool and flipped the lid.

Candyman cursed. Several times really fast.

Couldn’t have said it better
. Cardinal slapped the lid closed, praying the radiation levels of the decaying uranium weren’t strong enough to contaminate him. “Check the others,” he said as he sheathed his knife. Knuckles against his lips, he watched as the others opened the other crates.

He eased back on another crate and drew out the camera and opened the live-feed connection to Burnett. Toeing the lid, he opened the vault and filmed the contents, then let the lens scrape over the rest, just enough to show Burnett that this shipment had to be intercepted before it got to wherever it was going.

This barge couldn’t deliver its contents. Most barges were hired. So maybe the owner didn’t realize what he carried. Or maybe he was being paid off—just like Admiral Kuhn? The shifting of the plot elements in this nightmare felt like tectonic plates colliding beneath the earth. There were bound to be seismic-scale responses.

Who was behind this? Where would the contents end up? Did that really matter when something like this being under the cover of darkness meant it wasn’t on the up-and-up? That meant treaties or laws or embargoes were being violated.

What if this stuff was headed to Iran?

As if led to that thought via the divine, Cardinal’s gaze fell on the canister across from him. More precisely, the markings on said canister. He climbed off the crates, squinting. Tried to aim the shoulder lamp at the stenciled marks as he moved.

“Whaddya got?” Candyman asked, his voice quiet and quick.

In a terrifying shift, the past surged over his barriers and rammed into the present. Heart backfiring, Cardinal traced the stenciled lettering.

Бeлapycь

Talon straightened, his keen eyes locked on one man. He rose and padded over to Dane, nosing the man’s thigh. Talon had done that a thousand times to Aspen over the past year as she struggled with her brother’s disappearance.

Sitting at Dane’s feet, Talon gazed up at him perceptively. Whimpered. Inched closer.

Dane didn’t move, his attention glued to the rusting red canister that loomed over him. Hand on painted letters that had once been white, he stared. As if he could see straight through it.

“Dane?” Aspen whispered to him as she joined him.

No response. What was wrong? She peeked around at his face.

Haunted. Stricken.

Something rumbled in the pit of her belly. Aspen touched his back. “Dane?”

Jaw tightened, he snapped out of it. Lowered his gaze to the side but did not look at her. “We need to clear out.”

And that was it. He morphed back into the super soldier or whatever he was. “Cardinal.” The word burst from her lips before she had time to consider what it might do. What it might mean.

Dane flinched. Started to look at her. But froze. He turned—away from her. “Candyman, get a picture.” He tapped the canister. “Let’s move out.”

They were headed to the ladder when he strode past her.

She caught his arm. Held tight.

Though meaning flashed through his face, he seemed to harness it. Anger shifted and slid through his expression. His gaze went down. Then bounced to hers. “Can you get Talon topside or do you need help?”

Topside. Right. How
would
she get Talon out of there? Aspen felt disembodied from the events. Something happened back there. She wanted to know what it was.
“He’s not who you think he is.”
When she’d used that term—
Cardinal
—he’d responded. But it wasn’t the response she’d expected, though she wasn’t sure what she expected. Or why she’d even spoken the word. It’d made him angry.

Her gaze went to the hall where the ship’s workers had come from. Would that work?

“No.” Dane glared at her. “Too dangerous.” He shifted to the ladder as he scooped Talon’s lead from her hands. “Candyman, catch.”

Dane took Talon’s lead and tossed one end up. He clipped the other to Talon’s vest. He pointed Aspen to the ladder. “Climb with him.”

She started up the rungs, one arm hooked around Talon, who clamped his mouth shut, unsettled with the lifting method. “’S okay, boy.” Up…up…up.

Paws on deck, Talon sat. Huffed through a closed snout, letting his objection be known.

Aspen took his head and reassured him as she led him toward the catwalk, glancing back as Dane reached the top. He might have avoided the conversation for now, but he had some questions to answer. It wouldn’t change her feelings. She’d known for a long time he hid things. He was a master at it, in fact.

He hooked a leg over the top and pushed to—he pitched forward. Aspen sucked in a breath.

Sparks flew off the hull.

“Taking fire! Taking fire!” Candyman barreled into her and slammed her temple into the ship. “Down!”

Pain ricocheted through Aspen’s head and down her neck, jarring. She yelped and reached for it. Hearing hollowed. Vision blurred. All from using her noggin to break her fall. Warmth slid down her face.

Spine to her, Candyman shoved her backward, using his boots to push them to cover. Talon whimpered and dug his snout beneath her arm. Poor guy. No doubt this was too familiar.

M4s pounded the night with their report.
Tsings
and cracks rattled the barge.

Aspen wiped the blood from her cheek and watched as Dane rolled to the side, to cover.

“Move!” Candyman shouted as he fired off several rounds. Suppressive fire.

Dane lunged toward them. Sidled up and plastered himself to the steel that protected them. She felt stupid. Out of her element. The mortal danger reminded her of what was important—living.

“Now!” Candyman hauled her up as he once again fired. He hook-thrusted her across the catwalk.

Dane was with them. Holding his side.

“You ok—?”

“Go!” He pushed her forward.

“Coming out,” Candyman shouted as he keyed his mic. “Cover!”

Had the others made it out? Where was Timbrel? They reached the far side. A few more steps and they’d bound over the three-foot drop into the water and onto the dock. In reach. Talon jogged with them.

Aspen aimed for the jump that would put her on the dock. Her foot slipped. Heat seared down her leg. She cried out. Stumbled. Kept moving.

Deft hands carried her up. Over the drop.

Panic hammered erratically through her. Mind buzzing. Ears ringing. Leg burning. Vision blurring. Only as her feet left the deck of the ship did she feel the rush of adrenaline that carried her over the drop.

Her right knee buckled as she landed.

Again, a hand kept her moving. Threw her toward the barrels that lined the dock. She crashed into them. Gulping air. Choking on fear.

Someone landed on her.

Talon’s yelp forced her mind from the fraying panic. “Talon!”

Another whimper. Behind. She twisted—and cried out.

“Stop moving,” Dane hissed in her ear.

She stilled, realizing his hand had clamped onto her arm. She glanced down and saw moonlight glinting off something dark on her arm. “Blood?”

Their eyes snagged together.

Ping!

Dane ducked and pushed himself into her. “Candyman—get us out of here!”

“If you’d stop flirting and start shooting, we might get out of here,” Candyman shouted back.

“You sound jealous.”

Aspen glanced from one man to the next, aware they were both fully engaged in what they were doing. Dane—stopping her from bleeding. Candyman—stopping them from getting killed.

Wouldn’t it be better if they all worked on that last one?

“I’m fine.” Aspen dragged herself free and reached for the gun holstered at her thigh. Only…it wasn’t there.

“Looking for this? You dropped it when they tagged your arm in that jump.” Dane held up her Glock. “Can you walk?”

“My arm was shot, not my leg.”

He arched an eyebrow.

“What?”

He nodded down. She looked and blanched. Where had that come from? A tear, not a hole. She must’ve sliced it on something. “It’s just a cut.”

“Okay, they’re coming in for us.”

“Where are the targets?”

“One in Blue Two.” Candyman pointed to the northeastern side of the dock. “Who knows where else. I can’t peg them.”

A vehicle ripped around the corner. Tires squalled.

Even from here she saw the bullets pinging off the hull. Thank God for armor plating!

It whipped around. Rammed into reverse and roared toward them. Tires screeched again as they skidded to a stop five feet to the left.

“C’mon, c’mon,” Rocket shouted from inside.

Dane pulled Aspen up, propping his arm around her waist and shoulders. “Ready?”

Teeth clamped as fire tore through her leg, she nodded. They rushed forward.

Candyman used his weapon for cover fire and his broad shoulders and back to shield them. Talon leapt into the vehicle. Aspen jumped in after him.

“Go, go, go!” Candyman shouted, banging the hull.

“Wait.” Aspen glanced back, knowing Dane hadn’t climbed in. She saw him throw himself at her.

The vehicle lurched forward.

Dane landed with a thud. Right behind him came Candyman, crawling over both of them to get out of the way as the rear doors flapped closed. Rocket secured them.

Aspen laughed and extricated herself from Dane, pulling herself onto a seat. Relief swirled fierce and potent. That was close. She tried to shift her legs, but Dane—

“Dane?” She reached for him. “Why isn’t he moving?”

Candyman cursed again. Grabbed Dane. Flipped him over.

Blood trailed down his temple. Gushed over his neck.

    Twenty-Nine