by Riley Storm
Lucien inhaled. Exhaled. Looking closer at him, Alison saw the muscles not just on his face, but of his neck and shoulders tightening and releasing in minuscule movements. What was going on?
“I know, because I heard it in his voice,” he said at last, exhaling deeply after he was finished, staring at a spot on the floor.
Alison blinked. His voice? That was it? Why wasn’t Lucien more aware of what was going on here? “So he’s a good actor?”
“No,” Lucien rasped, looking up at last.
Stifling a gasp, she stared at a torturous visage, a face of a man tormented by something truly awful.
“I know he’s telling the truth,” Lucien continued. “Because I can hear the pain in his voice. The shame.” Shuddering, he inhaled, but didn’t stop speaking. “The same shame that I feel every time I remember that I too, ran from my friends. That I took the easy way out, when they stayed and fought. I hear that in his voice, and I know he’s telling the truth, because you can’t fake it.”
Driven back a step by the pain in his voice, Alison wasn’t sure how to act. She wanted to reach out to him, to take him into his arms, but a small voice inside her said that was the wrong move. Now was not a time Lucien wished to show weakness. He’d just finished doing that. Now was a time to be strong. And she was going to support him in that.
“I didn’t know,” she said instead, filling the growing void of silence.
“I know. Because I haven’t told anyone. It’s been my secret to hold.”
Chief stepped forward. “I understand.” His voice was heavy. “We’ll free them.” His voice was a vow. A promise, and Lucien nodded in agreement.
“Then the four of us will free your other friends,” Chief added, clapping Lucien on the shoulder.
“Thank you.” Lucien rumbled, strength returning to his voice.
Watching the brotherhood form between the two of them, Alison found herself touched by its seeming sincerity. She could see them forming a friendship before her very eyes, founded on the sharing of emotions that neither of them seemed likely to be very open about on their own. It was…not cute, because it was too heartfelt. But something. Something nice.
And she wanted in.
“I’ll help.”
Only with both men staring at her did Alison realize that it was her voice that had just spoken into the silence, volunteering to help them on their mission.
Lucien was frowning and looked about ready to protest, but Alison’s eyes flashed as she locked onto him, driving him back a half-step with the weight of her stare. “These men broke into my house. Assaulted me. Tied up my dog and threatened to do worse to both of us. Do not think for one second that I am sitting this out. I’ll be your lookout, distraction, whatever. But I am not going to sit here in safety and let them get away with it.”
“I think you should listen to her,” Chief said with a chuckle. “She sounds like she means business, and I don’t want to be on the other end of that.”
“I think you’re right,” Lucien said unhappily.
Why are you doing this? You saw what they’ll do to people who go up against them when Lucien nearly died on your carpet. Now you want to get involved?
No answer was immediately forthcoming as to why, but that didn’t dissuade her from wanting to continue. This was the right thing to do. She just knew it, on some level that wasn’t registering with the rest of her yet. Figuring it out would just have to wait. For now, she had to help plan this rescue.
“Where is this facility?” Lucien asked, glancing at her one last time with worry.
“It’s built into the waste transfer station on the edge of Plymouth Falls,” Chief explained, giving them a breakdown of the layout of the facility.
Blinking in surprise, Alison barely managed to keep herself from interrupting. It was a part of a township building?
“Don’t look so shocked,” Lucien said, smiling at her. “Most of our facilities are located in town. Some in places you might never even suspect.” Then, abruptly, his face clouded over and he looked back at Chief.
Wondering just what he’d meant by that, Alison filed it away, adding it to the list of questions she still had about the entire operation. Questions to which she expected answers to start arriving sooner rather than later.
“Any suggestions on how to get in there?” Lucien asked. “They’ll see us coming from a long way away if we try to break in.”
Alison grinned. “That’s because they’re looking for you two. You’re both kind of hard to miss.”
Two sets of eyebrows lifted as the large men focused on her.
“I have an idea,” she said, keeping her face as innocent as possible.
It was an idea, though she didn’t think they were going to like it.
19
The giggling just wouldn’t subside. Not even as she pulled up to the entry gate of the transfer station. The attendant glanced at her as she rolled up, and the laughter seemed to reach out and affect him.
“Well you’re in a good mood!” he shouted. “Enjoying the day?”
“Oh yes,” she agreed, a full on laugh escaping her. “You have no idea. Sometimes the stars just align, you know?”
The attendant grinned. “I do! You new around here?” he added. “Don’t recognize you.”
She nodded. “First day.”
“And they let you out in one of these already?” he called back over the chugging-idle of the big engine.
“Must have aced the interview.”
The attendant laughed and waved her forward onto the scales as the arm lifted. Alison tilted her head and withdrew back into the cab of the garbage truck.
Another fit of giggles swarmed her to the point she nearly didn’t stop in time. Glancing out the window, she waited until the attendant gave her a thumbs-up and waved her forward.
A slew of nerves started to work their way into her system, but she contented herself with a fresh image in her mind of what had kept her in smiles the entire time. As the picture appeared, she giggled loudly, trying to smother her laughter with the back of an arm as she guided the truck forward toward the dumping ground.
The truck handled surprisingly well, and the half hour she’d practiced driving it around had helped as well, but piloting big vehicles had never really bothered Alison before, though this was definitely the largest.
And stinkiest.
Moving forward, she followed the lane down toward where a bulldozer was waiting to clean up anything she spilled when dropping her compressed trash into one of the empty green bins.
The process of backing up and aligning the truck with the bin took her three tries, and with each one, her nerves shot up to a new level, suppressing the laughter that had been her constant companion since they’d decided on this course of action. Now was not the time for her to screw it up, and Alison doubled down on her focus, nailing the third attempt.
The driver of the bulldozer gave her a thumbs-up, which must mean she was properly lined up. Alison waved in thanks, then glanced down at the controls on her dash, self-doubt washing out the memory of the order in which she was supposed to hit the controls.
“Is it these ones first? Or these?” she said, asking nobody in particular while her finger was waving back and forth between switches.
Finally taking a stab in the dark, she flicked a set. The truck began to whine and the rear lifted away. Alison was just breaking out into a smile when the truck began to shake as garbage tumbled to the rear—and stayed there. She felt it rocking the entire vehicle. It was also very possible she heard a shout. Very faint.
Please have been the bulldozer driver, she prayed, flicking the other set of switches hastily. The rear of the truck opened and she felt the garbage dropping out into the bin with a mighty crash.
Moments later, she cringed as a head appeared in the window opposite hers. Lucien’s eyes were barely visible, lest the driver of the bulldozer wonder where he’d come from.
Alison stared straight ahead, hands at nine and
three on the wheel while the truck went through its automated dump cycle. Behind her, the roar of the trash emptying eventually faded, and she toggled both switches at once, returning the truck to its primary position.
“Couldn’t have done that the first time?” Lucien asked, his tone far too polite.
“What smells?” she asked.
“I think it’s a combination of baby diapers, cat litter, and if I’m not mistaken,” Lucien said with a smack of his lips, “leftover pizza with olives on it.” There was a pause. “I hate olives.”
The giggles threatened to return, but she clamped down on it, putting the truck in gear.
“I smell rotting eggs,” she said. “That must mean Chief is there too.”
“Just drive,” Lucien said with a sigh. “Just. Drive.”
Alison pulled forward, the two men clinging to the side of the truck, and came up alongside the main administration building near the entrance. There was a row of parking spots designated for the trucks, and she parked in one of them, while the two men—dressed in waste management overalls stolen from inside the truck—hopped off and strolled quickly into the shadow of the side of the building and then disappeared inside.
Doing up both her windows, Alison slumped down low.
Only then did the laughter come. Howls of it bounced off the windows, filling the inside of the cab. She was picturing the two of them in the back of the truck, waiting for the hatch to open so they could jump out into the bin and avoid the worst of the oncoming garbage. Only she’d messed up what to do, and so the hatch remained closed while trash began to slide forward, piling up around the two of them.
Although she was feeling bad about it, how could anyone not laugh at such an image? It was impossible. Too funny, really.
Okay, game-face time.
There wasn’t much time for her to recover. Ten minutes from when she pulled up into the parking spot, that was it. Ten minutes for the pair of men to break into the facility, find their comrades and escape, all without bringing down security on top of them. That was the length of time she was allowed to relax and park there before it was expected of her to get back on the job according to the driver.
A driver, she thought, who was probably counting his stacks of cash.
Both Lucien and Chief had been in favor of simply strong-arming the workers, kidnapping them and keeping them out of the way while they executed the plan, but she’d talked them into bribing them, after she realized that money wasn’t a major issue for either of the men. Ten grand apiece to driver and loader had bought them far more than just the truck.
The pair had been more than accommodating and willing to give them all sorts of help on how to accomplish their goals.
Now all Alison had to do was hope that the ten minutes were enough. Chief knew the layout of the facility, and he’d been the one who said it was feasible, but she could read people well enough to know he wasn’t as confident as he put forward. Things were going to be close, she could feel it.
The red digits on the dash flickered as another minute ticked by on the clock. Tapping ceaselessly on the doorframe, Alison was struggling to keep her heartrate down. There was no sense in growing distressed. Everything at this point was out of her control.
Come on, Lucien. Hurry up!
20
“You had better be right,” he growled, looking over his shoulder as Chief punched a code into the door.
After dropping off the side of the truck and strolling casually away from the entrance to the administration building, he’d followed Chief around the back of the metal-sided structure. To their right were various specialty dumping zones, for things like large furniture, household appliances, and more. Past that was the hazardous goods area.
“I was the overseer here for seven years,” Chief said. “You don’t think it ever proved beneficial for me to have access to the area without it being on my own record? Of course, I forged codes. I doubt they’ve done anything more than suspend my personal ones until they have confirmation I’ve actually turned. We’re fine.”
“Maybe.” Lucien wasn’t so sure. They’d discussed the plan for several hours, and all of them agreed that it was unlikely that Lyken and his squad were still there. Instead, they would be out hunting Lucien down, trying to find his location.
That meant only the guards were left. To Chief’s knowledge they were all loyal, and none of them could be expected to aid in the escape. Which meant that if the two were discovered, they would have to take them down fast, before any alarm could be sounded. The last thing they wanted was for reinforcements to arrive before they could get away.
“We’re in,” Chief said, pulling the door open and heading inside without pause.
Lucien snagged the door and went in with one last glance around to ensure nobody saw them. The door was unmarked for a reason, to ensure it didn’t arouse suspicion, and as such had no security cameras attached to it. They would eventually encounter such security—which was why speed was of the essence. Strike fast and deep, get to the security room before anyone realized what was happening.
Then they could rescue Lorik and Lana. It wouldn’t completely expunge the shame Lucien felt, but it was a start, and Chief would benefit from it even more.
“This way,” Chief said, and they raced down the stairs, bouncing from landing to landing until they reached the bottom three floors below.
Chief slapped his palm against a section of painted cinderblock wall and a panel slid back, revealing another keypad. He punched in some numbers. Hearing the click at the door, Lucien pulled it open and followed the former administrator into the Canis facility built deep into the bowels of the transfer station.
Their feet slapped against the floor as they charged down the hallway, knowing full well they were under surveillance now. It was a matter of time, and hoping that whoever was in the security room wasn’t glued to their screens. According to Chief, they were fairly laid back about it, though the room was always staffed.
“What are you—” Lucien started to ask as Chief lowered his shoulder and barreled straight ahead as they reached an intersection.
The big shifter went straight through the door labelled Storage, and then through the back wall of the room, blowing drywall and studs apart.
“Sure, just start running through walls. Why not?” Lucien muttered, following Chief through.
He emerged into the security room to find his comrade wrestling with one of the shifter guards on the ground. Lucien tracked motion in his peripheral and launched himself at a second figure just now sitting up in his chair.
“Ack!” the unprepared guard yelped as two hundred and thirty pounds of determined muscle landed on top of him.
“Do you surrender?” Lucien asked, driving a knee into his midsection.
“Fuck y—”
“Suit yourself,” Lucien said as the air was violently expelled from the guard’s lungs, preventing him from finishing his expletive. “We could have done this the easy way.”
A booted foot came up hard, and only a violent, last-ditch effort to fling himself to the side prevented Lucien from taking the strike right in his groin. Struggling for balance, he went down as the guard rolled on top, gaining the upper hand in their struggle. Blows were raining down left and right, though Lucien was managing to deflect most of them.
Some got through, however, and he was rocked back by a fist to the temple that connected solidly. It left his opponent open, however, and Lucien countered with a jab straight up the middle that took the guard in the throat, nearly crushing his windpipe.
Suddenly deprived of the ability to suck down air for a moment as his system spasmed, the guard flung himself backward to create space. Lucien was impressed. Whoever this was, they didn’t panic. They’d had some serious training.
Getting to his feet, he started to square off. Instead, his opponent’s eyes flicked to a control board nearby.
“Oh no you don’t,” Lucien growled, lunging forward and putting himself between the e
mergency button and the guard.
A mighty crash from behind told Lucien that Chief was still dealing with the second guard. They had to finish this soon. The facility wasn’t large. The other two guards would hear the commotion and come looking, he was positive of it.
Not to mention they simply did not have time for this. Getting to his feet, Lucien lashed out with a foot that caught his guard in the chin. Then he grabbed the man, spun twice and launched him back through the wall he and Chief had come through.
His aim was off and the man hit three feet to the left with a sickening thwack, going headfirst into wall that looked the same, but was apparently made from cinderblock. He collapsed to the floor and lay still.
“You just going to stand there?” Chief grunted as he stood upright, wrestling in close quarters with his foe less than two feet to Lucien’s left.
“Huh? Oh.” A fist flashed out and the other guard staggered as it hit his head square on without any deflection.
Chief dropped him to the floor and quickly choked him out.
“Five minutes,” Lucien said. “What now?”
“Now you’re going down!” a voice shouted from behind.
Lucien groaned. “Oh come on!” he started to say before a wrecking ball slammed into him. They went down, crashing through control panels. Electricity sparked and acrid smoke began to fill the room.
Chief was there looming over top of him. “Lasciel, that is enough!” he barked.
The guard snarled and pulled back to punch Lucien. Reaching out, Chief snagged the arm. Grinning, Lucien grabbed the guard’s collar and pulled down. Forehead met bridge of nose and the guard went slack from the impact. Wincing in pain, Lucien got to his feet, giving the guard two swift punches to ensure he stayed out.
“Shut it down,” he barked at Chief. “Then we need to move.”
There was also still the fourth guard to worry about.
“It’s down,” Chief said, pointing at the control panel Lucien had smashed. “You’re still wearing part of it. Let’s go, the prisoner cells are this way,” he said, pointing at an actual door.
