Surrender: Saving Setora Book 6

by Dark, Raven

  Underhanded, perhaps, but they would never have stayed behind otherwise. Mayhem agreed to ensure they went home with T-Man and Cherry instead of coming after us and playing heroes like they had at Delta. They’d be pissed, but they’d be alive and home in Devil’s Breath where Ash needed them soon. The same couldn’t have been said for them if they’d joined us on this fucking rescue mission. I’d already lost three men on the last trip; Sinister and his boys were mine now, and I wouldn’t lose them too.

  With enough fuel for the carriages and supplies to get us through two weeks from the Angels, we’d taken off toward Hell’s Burning, riding straight through the eight-hour trip. We’d taken the carriages to a cluster of caves a few miles from the Wall, stowing the vehicles and riding only on the motorbikes from then on. High clay walls and formations provided the perfect cover, with plenty of deep caverns to camp in while we looked for a way into that damn compound.

  We stuck to our bikes, partly because they were less likely to be noticed. The carriages were faster, and flying would have given us a better vantage, but no one used fancy ones like those Lord Bain had given us, except the obscenely rich. Plus, there were dozens of MCs in the area, so we easily blended in, as long as we hid our faces and didn’t show patch.

  Which was why, when I went out to meet Pretty Boy and Steel, they were wearing cuts without patches on them, with helmets and bandanas hiding their faces.

  “General.” Pretty Boy dismounted and took off his helmet and the cloth over his face. “Sorry we’re late.”

  “You were gone six hours. Where the fuck did you go, halfway to Crite?”

  After two days with that monster, who knew what Damien was doing to my Little Spy. We needed a way in, and we needed it now, dammit.

  “You sound like a mother hen.” Steel set his helmet on the back of his bike and stuffed his bandana in an inside pocket of his cut. He still had the splint on his fingers, and according to Doc, it would be there for another few weeks.

  “Deal with it. Did you get them?”

  Pretty Boy took two large scrolls out of the pack tied to his bike and held them up with a grin.

  Hope burned in my chest like a hot coal. Those scrolls were the first piece of good news we’d had since we’d left the Hold.

  I waved at Pretty Boy and Steel to follow me into the cave, including Hawk who’d been standing beside me.

  “We had to go all the way to Zone 6 to get those,” Steel said, wiping sweat from his brow.

  It was hotter than hell out here; my cut was already stuck to my back with sweat.

  “How did you get them?” Hawk asked. I picked up on the suspicion in his tone.

  “The same way any self-respecting pirate gets anything.” Pretty Boy shrugged. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes that had me rolling mine.

  “You stole them.” Inside the cave, I grabbed an empty crate and set it upside down on the ground while Hawk grabbed another and set it beside the first. “From where?”

  “The Hall of Records in Zone 6. The good record keeper at the Hall had this pesky rule about not removing anything from the vault and wouldn’t let us take them.” Pretty Boy and Steel grinned at each other and bumped congratulatory fists.

  I sighed irritably and snatched the scrolls from Pretty Boy. “Assclowns.”

  Secretly, though, I felt an upsurge of affection and gratitude for both of them. Without those papers, there was no way of saving our woman from that fuck. “Hawk, tell Doc to get his ass in here.”

  Hawk went to the entrance and yelled for Doc, while I spread the scrolls out across the crates for lack of a table.

  Doc joined us, and everyone gathered around the crates. I took Pretty Boy’s sword from the scabbard on his back and laid it across the scrolls for a paperweight.

  All of us, including me, squatted around the crates, looking over the scrolls. The two large pieces of paper depicted a detailed blueprint of Damien’s compound, right down to the doorways in the main house. The blueprint had to be one of the most complex layouts I’d ever seen. As soon I studied the building plans, I knew this wasn’t going to be easy.

  “Look at the passages between these buildings.” Doc scratched his chin. “Sardines packed into a can. How does anyone move around in there?”

  “Carefully,” Pretty Boy told him.

  Pretty Boy and Steel were the only Legion members who’d ever been beyond the Wall, so they knew more about the place than the rest of us.

  “It looks like the place is set up so that unauthorized vehicles can’t get near any of the privately owned buildings without a lot of difficulty.” Hawk moved closer and traced a path with his finger. “And that includes bikes. The streets are too narrow, and there are guard posts everywhere. Look at all the guard towers.”

  “Those are for J’nai soldiers?” Doc looked at Steel and Pretty Boy.

  “You got it,” Pretty Boy said.

  I ran my palm down my face. “We’ll have to go in on foot.”

  “The bigger concern is getting into Damien’s house,” Hawk said. “And then getting Setora out.”

  “You can’t.” When I looked at Steel, he shrugged. “We got in before, but it was during an auction. As buyers, with those coins. There isn’t an auction now.”

  “And we checked, Sheriff,” Pretty Boy said. “There’s no party being held anytime soon that we can drop in on. And every entrance will be guarded by at least two of those fucking J’nai soldiers. King Dipshit will be expecting us to bust in. He’ll have the whole place on lockdown.”

  “That’s why we’re not going to go in the front doors.” I looked over the plans. “We’ll have to be a lot more covert.”

  “How?” Steel asked. “Unless the five of us can pass ourselves off as guards, there’s no way in.”

  I scowled at the blueprints, considering. “What’s all this in here?” I traced a path along a series of oddly placed hallways that ran behind almost every room in the main house.

  Hawk looked over the same halls and shook his head. “Those don’t make any sense. Look where they go. There’s one of those halls behind every room.”

  “Old passages maybe?” Doc suggested. “Maybe this blueprint isn’t up to date and the house was rebuilt with new ones.”

  Pretty Boy’s eyes widened, and he leaned closer. “Wait…” He traced the same lines. “Shit. I know what those are. Lord Falnar had some of them in his castle.”

  I looked at him expectantly. When I cleared my throat, he glanced around at all of us and rubbed his hands together.

  “Okay, so, here’s the thing. Moneybags like Damien who have an army of servants and slaves never want their ‘help’ to be seen by the good family living in their house. They want them to appear and disappear unnoticed, almost like whatever they do just appears, as if by magic. Every room in old houses like this has a hidden doorway leading to one of these halls, so that the help can come and go without ever bumping into the lord of the manor or his family. They remain out of sight.”

  I patted him on the back. “I’m impressed, Pretty Boy.”

  “Hey, there’s more to me than my good looks, Sheriff.” He grinned.

  Steel snorted.

  “Anyway, those secret hallways will help us once we’re inside,” I said. “But only if we dress the part.”

  “General, you’re joking,” Steel growled. “You want us to pretend to be Damien’s servants?”

  I stood up. “You have a better idea, Steel, let’s hear it.”

  He sighed, but dropped his shoulders, shaking his head. “If playing the part gets Petal back…” His face hardened, resolute. “Point me where you want me.”

  “It’s the perfect cover,” Pretty Boy said. “It’s not uncommon for people like Damien to have no idea what his servants look like, or even how many he has. As long as we’re dressed for the part, and none of us does anything to draw attention, we’ll be fine.”

  “Okay, but that doesn’t help us get in to begin with,” Doc pointed out. “The place will
be like a fortress. Every vehicle or person going in or out of that house is going to be checked by the guards. Even servants who enter will probably have to have papers or some kind of proof that they’re supposed to be there.”

  Hawk, who’d been staring at the blueprints, lifted his head. “Then we bypass the guards,” he said softly.

  “How? They’ll be everywhere,” Steel said.

  “Leave that to me. I’ll get us in.”

  “Care to elaborate, Hawk?” I demanded. Hawk’s plans usually included some dangerous infiltration technique that pushed even his Yantu skills to the limits.

  “Hawk, no one’s going to believe you’re anyone’s servant,” Pretty Boy said. “Servants don’t usually move like warriors.”

  “That’s why I won’t be one. All I need is the right uniform.”

  I looked at him calculatingly. “How do you plan on getting in? Unless you can make yourself invisible, even you won’t make it into that house unchecked.”

  He gave me a rare smile. “I won’t be going inside the house.” He paused and pointed to an area on the blueprint. “I’ll be going under it.”

  I leaned over, looking at the place where his finger was and then glared at him. “Hawk, that’s suicide. You could be killed.”

  He stood. “I’ll get it done. If the rest of you are in the right places at the right time for me to let you in once I’m inside, it’ll work.”

  “I don’t like it.” I crossed my arms, resolute.

  “If you have a better idea, General, let’s hear it.”

  “Pretty Boy’s right, you are an ass.” While I loved Hawk for his willingness to risk his life for our woman, the last thing I wanted was for him to knowingly walk into a situation he might not come out of. I sighed and paced for a moment before dropping my shoulders. “You’re right though, there is no other way.” I gave him a nod. “Tell me what you have in mind, Captain.”

  Hawk squatted in front of the blueprints again and put his hands together under his chin as if in prayer, his expression one of deep concentration.

  “First, we need to get the right uniforms. Pretty Boy, Steel, you two and I will have to be at exactly the right place at the right time, and once we’re in, stick to our roles the whole time. Doc, Sheriff, for this to work, you’ll come in only at the end, to take out Damien directly. I’ll have to go in right here, when it’s dark…”

  Hours passed while we planned. We figured out the best time to break in, and what role some of us would play to blend in with the house staff.

  I’d have been lying if I said it didn’t piss me off that we couldn’t just be the pirates we were and storm Damien’s proverbial castle in the open, take out his fucking guards, and give him the surprise of his life before we reclaimed our woman and I sliced his head from his shoulders. I hated sneaking around, and it would kill me as much as Steel to have my men even pretend to be his damn servants for what might be days. But this was the only way to get Setora out.

  Over the next three days, Hawk and I watched the compound from a hilltop on the south side, one that rose high enough to see over the compound wall and looked out on the main house, as well as a vast field of sand that stretched out behind it. Over those three days, we determined where guards were stationed, how often they changed shifts, and who moved in and out of where at which times.

  Eventually, we determined that the only time Damien let Setora out of the house was to go horseback riding across that large stretch of desert within his compound.

  Laying on the ground at the crest of the hill and looking through a monocular, I followed the horse that raced across the plains behind the main property. At this distance, I could make out a woman with pale, purple hair, riding fast across the hard-baked sand toward the wall that surrounded the back of the estate.

  Setora. My chest tightened for her, knowing she was trapped in that place with him. As soon as we had her, I’d find Damien fucking Vale and his head would roll.

  I lowered the monocular and looked at Hawk who lay on the ground beside me. “I’m guessing that’s Maja, the horse she told us about,” I whispered.

  Hawk nodded and took the monocular, looking through it. “It looks like she’s always monitored by two guards when she rides, also on horseback. See them following behind her?”

  “I saw them.”

  “We need to be able to see her at least once before we execute the plan, Sheriff. Find out her daily routine. Make sure she’s in the right position when the time comes.”

  “During her ride is probably the only time we’ll be able to get close to her,” I said. “She always goes out in the early morning, before the temp gets too high.”

  We returned to the camp and discussed a few final details with the others. No one liked their roles, and especially not Pretty Boy. It was the best way to get him closest to her without suspicion, but to say it was the last thing he wanted to be doing was an understatement. I didn’t blame him, once I saw what he’d have to do in order for Hawk’s plan to work.

  Once the plan was settled, I rolled up the blueprints of Damien’s compound and stowed them away, since none of us would need them much now. The sun was low outside the cave as Blade served up a stew he’d been cooking over the fire for dinner. Hawk sat with his legs crossed in front of him on his meditation mat, hands on his knees, his eyes closed. He’d been like that for hours. I was also sure he’d been purposely holding his breath for long periods of time, though I couldn’t imagine why.

  Steel and Pretty Boy sat on a log across from me, whispering amongst themselves. They were up to something, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what it was.

  “Here you are, General.” Blade handed me a bowl of stew. “It won’t hold a candle to Crash’s, but it’s edible.”

  “Barely,” Grim warned, spooning some of the stew into his mouth, seated on a log beside Hawk.

  Sitting on Grim’s other side, Bear laughed and shoveled stew into his mouth, mopping it up with a piece of crusty bread.

  Blade grinned. “Eat it or starve, Grim.”

  “I’m sure it’s fine, Blade, thanks.” I took a spoonful. It wouldn’t have mattered how bad the stew was, I didn’t taste it. I was numb.

  Blade sat beside Grim and Bear with his own bowl. “General.” He nodded to Hawk, his voice low. “What is he doing?”

  I almost smiled at the fascination in his voice. “No idea.”

  Hawk let out the breath he’d been holding. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he visibly struggled to return his breathing to normal.

  Beside Steel and Pretty Boy, Doc clicked the stop-watch in his hand. “That’s thirteen minutes, Hawk. That’s enough. No more of this.”

  Hawk shook his head. “Still not long enough.”

  “Are you trying to set a record, Hawk?” I asked him.

  “You could say that.” He opened his yellow eyes slowly, but otherwise didn’t move. “We don’t have an oxygen tank on hand. I need to be able to hold my breath for up to sixteen minutes if this is going to work.”

  “Sixteen minutes!” Bear whistled. “Holy fuck.”

  “This is dangerous, Hawk,” Doc said. “The body isn’t meant to go without oxygen for that long. You push yourself much harder and you could suffer permanent brain damage. Hawk, you could die.”

  “There is a Yantu training exercise for warriors who wish to become a sixth level tai dan in which the warrior must hold his breath for up to fifteen minutes at a time. I’m fine, Doc. I know what I’m doing.”

  Doc shook his head. “Sometimes I think you believe yourself invincible. Hawk, even Yantu can die.”

  Hawk said nothing.

  “Well, at least eat something. Here.” Doc got up and served him up a bowl of stew.

  Hawk accepted the bowl, but instead of eating it, he pushed to his feet and stalked out of the cave.

  Doc growled and stood up. “He’s going to kill himself, Sheriff,” he spat. “I want Setora safe as much as the rest of us, but he’s no good to any of us if he’s de
ad.”

  I was about to tell him to trust Hawk to know his own limits, but Doc took off after him. I sighed, hoping I was right. Hawk wasn’t a mystical being like a lot of people thought, but he’d also proven himself to have different limits than the rest of us. Limits none of us, including Doc, fully understood.

  Since there was no talking sense into Hawk, I focused on another matter. “Just what the hell are you two chuckleheads up to over there?”

  Pretty Boy grinned at me. “You’ll see, Sheriff. We’ll show you tomorrow, if it works.”

  “How about you tell me now.”

  “We still need to tweak things a bit.”

  I opened my mouth to demand more, but Doc returned, leaving Hawk sitting in deep conversation with his four guardsmen outside the cave. Doc shook his head, stomping back to his place at the fire, muttering something about Hawk being stubborn.

  “There’s no talking sense into him.” Doc picked up his stew.

  “Is there a danger?” I asked quietly.

  Doc looked up at the cave ceiling. “Were he anyone else, I’d say yes. He’s crazy to try what he’s going to do. But with Hawk…” He shook his head. “There’s a risk, there’s no denying that. The doctor in me wants to lock him up to keep him from doing this. But his plan is also the only way in.” Doc glanced at Pretty Boy and Steel, his expression curious. I all but saw him effectively putting Hawk from his mind. There was no talking Hawk out of this.

  “So what’s left for us to do for this crazy plan to work?” he asked me now.

  “We need to get the uniforms from somewhere. Five of them, before tomorrow. I’m not sure how to do that yet.”

  “We’ll take care of it, General.” Pretty Boy stood up, along with Steel who nodded. “Give us two hours. Steel, if we’re going to do this, we gotta go now.”

  Steel patted him on the back and both of them started out of the cave.

  I was on my feet and stalking after them before they made it to the entrance. “Hold it. What are you two up to?”

  “Better if you don’t know, Sheriff. We’ll be back. Two hours, tops.”

  I called after them, but they were already on their bikes, the engines drowning all else out. I whirled on the rest of the group. “Did I suddenly lose my General’s patch?”