Steel Dragon (Steel Dragons Series Book 1)

by Kevin McLaughlin

  “But—”

  “Do you understand the plan?” She hissed and flexed her aura. Jim was immediately compliant. He had no choice and felt what she felt—a desire to complete her plan.

  She stood up to find that the mercs had indeed moved closer. They opened fire but their bullets continued to do nothing to her.

  “We have you surrounded, steel bitch!” one of the men said. “You ain’t got no gun, so what you gonna do? Come at me?”

  So, they did have tasers then. Idiots. She might have tried hand to hand, but not anymore. Not with one of them baiting her.

  Instead, she ripped one of the chairs from its moorings and hurled it the mercenary who’d tried to goad her.

  It pounded into him and hurled him back. Her strength and accuracy training with Sebastian had dramatically improved her aim.

  She ripped up another two chairs, one in each hand, and threw those at two other men. One managed to dodge but the other caught the projectile squarely in the chest. He sprawled and tangled in the seats.

  “Washington, go!” she said, and he obeyed, sprinted down the stands, and hurdled over the guard rail to land on top of the dugout. He scrambled down and was lost from sight.

  At least she wouldn’t have to worry about him.

  With him safely out of the way, she yanked another chair loose. Something pinged nearby and she spun and managed to catch the taser with the seat.

  The assholes really had prepared for every scenario.

  Kristen darted to her left, found a handrail, ripped it free, and threw it at him. It spun like a frisbee despite being a six-foot-long piece of steel.

  The mercenary barely managed to dodge and therefore kept his head.

  She paused, alert for the next attack, but her adversaries obviously decided on a strategic retreat. Three pairs of men each ran toward different exits. She considered following them but she had to assume each had a taser and that they’d know how to set a trap for her.

  Plus, there was Washington. If she left him in the dugout and vanished into the bowels of Comerica park, she had no doubt that one of the teams would double back and execute him. That had been their primary goal—this time, anyway. She felt certain of that.

  Rather than pursue, she jumped down onto the field, found her teammate huddled in the dugout, threw him over her shoulder like a damsel in distress, and got the hell out of there.

  His jacket would be the only clue that they’d been there in the morning—besides the seats she’d had yanked out of the concrete and the bullet holes everywhere.

  She shook her head. It really was a good thing they were cops. She wouldn’t want to be the detective tasked with discovering what had done that to the foul ball zone.

  Chapter Forty-One

  The duo took the People Mover back the station. It would have been awkward, she thought, but nearly dying together had a way of making uncomfortable moments seem unnecessary.

  “Thanks for saving my life back there,” Washington said.

  “It was nothing,” she replied, feeling guilty.

  “No, seriously. I’ve given you shit for being a dragon, and if you weren’t… Well, you saw what happened to Dwight.”

  “Look, Washington—”

  “Call me Jim, seriously.”

  “Jim, sure, look. I…there’s something I need to tell you.”

  He nodded. “For sure. We should probably call the team, though, right? I know I won’t be able to sleep after all that shit.”

  She nodded, even though she wanted nothing more than to sleep. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll call Drew and the Rookie. You call Butters and Beanpole. The first one done calls Hernandez.”

  “That sounds good.”

  They spent the next few stops calling their team. By the time they stepped off the People Mover and made it back the station, the others had assembled.

  Except for Keith, who had apparently answered his phone without realizing it. He had been watching a romantic comedy and laughing uproariously. Despite her yelling at him from his pocket, he would not be distracted.

  “Why am I out of bed right now?” Drew asked.

  “Same here, and where the fuck is the Rookie?” Hernandez grumbled.

  “Okay, I’ve followed some leads on my downtime,” Jim said and ignored the demolitions expert. Kristen found that she couldn’t help but think of him as Jim. Saving someone’s life after putting them in danger did funny things to the brain.

  “Is that what you call it when someone sends flowers for a booty call?” Hernandez asked.

  There were a few chuckles but the looks on Kristen and Jim’s faces silenced them quickly.

  “The flowers were a code. Old lyrics from some raps me and a buddy made.”

  “So…you’re a SWAT officer moonlighting as a gay rapper?” The woman looked incredulous. This time, no one laughed.

  “No. The flowers were from one of the people who attacked the station,” he said.

  For a moment, the words seemed to simply hang there while everyone let the weight of them sink in. Kristen still hadn’t told Jim everything, but he’d insisted on telling the team what he’d been up to first. Apparently, he felt guilty and wanted to come clean. She knew the feeling. While she also wanted to confess, she knew the team would need his information for hers to make any sense.

  “Is that why you stopped me from incapacitating that clumsy asshole?” Butters finally asked.

  Drew said nothing but the tightness of his jaw spoke louder than words. He was a moment away from tackling the man and throwing him in a cell.

  Jim nodded and looked as guilty as hell. “Yes, sir. That was my buddy, Dwight. We were in the Marines together. He’s also from Detroit—was from Detroit.”

  “So you chose your old team over your new one?” Drew snapped.

  “Please listen, Drew,” she said placatingly.

  “That first bouquet of flowers he sent me had a code for a location for us to meet. He told me to get the hell out of Detroit. I didn’t listen.”

  “Why did he want you out of the city?” Beanpole asked.

  “He was trying to protect me. The perps who’ve been running around are definitely mercenaries and highly skilled ones at that.”

  “Yeah, no shit. I could have told you that the moment that building almost crushed us,” Hernandez said. She looked about as pissed-off as Drew did.

  “What else?” the team leader asked.

  “They’re working for someone, but Dwight wouldn’t tell me who.”

  “Maybe he’ll tell us.”

  “I doubt that,” Kristen said. “You need a head to talk.”

  “What are you talking about, Hall?” he glared at her as if he tried to understand what her place in this was.

  “Dwight is dead. I went to meet him again tonight, but it was a setup,” Jim interjected before Kristen could answer. “They used him as bait, then killed him and tried to kill me. I’d be dead if not for the Steel Dragon.”

  “Baiting cops? That smells like the shit that went down with the gangs.” Hernandez rubbed her face. “Do you think that asshole Dragon SWAT was talking about is back?”

  “I don’t know about that. In fact, I don’t know how they found out Dwight was the leak. Both meetings were on his terms, and he used lyrics that no one would know but me. It’s not like we released an album.”

  “That would be me,” Kristen said, the words like knives of guilt in her chest. “I followed you the first night.”

  “No way,” Jim blurted. “I know how to watch for a tail.”

  “Yeah, well, not when they have dragon speed you don’t,” she said.

  “That doesn’t explain—”

  “Please listen, Jim.” She cut him off. The trust he placed in her was killing her. “I tailed you the first night, and tonight—well, actually, I worked the code out this time but that’s not what matters.”

  There was a collective raising of eyebrows as everyone looked at her. She swallowed. “I told someone that I suspected y
ou.”

  “Not your superior officer,” Drew said angrily.

  “Or your friend.” Butters sounded hurt.

  “No. I intended to do that, but you’re right. I didn’t.”

  “Then who?” Beanpole asked.

  “Sebastian Shadowstorm.”

  “I’m sorry, is that a cartoon character?” Hernandez snapped.

  “That is that dragon I met at the rooftop party. The one who threw Ironclaw off the roof.”

  “Keep talking,” the team leader said. Everyone else nodded.

  “He offered to help train me, and…I took him up on it. It’s been tough at work, trying to clamp down on my powers. He offered to teach me about my dragon abilities. I know I need to be more of a team player, but…well, I couldn’t say no. It’s helped too. I’m faster now and know how to use them with more precision.”

  “Damn straight,” Washington said. “Hall stopped six armed mercs from braining me using nothing but chairs.”

  “That’s not entirely true,” she protested.

  “Oh, that’s right. You ripped a damn handrail off too.”

  “Now, that’s a story I want to hear,” Butters said.

  “Oh, I’m sure Officer Hall will include all the details in the report she’ll write up and leave on the captain’s desk for the morning.”

  “Yes, sir.” Kristen looked at the floor. It would be a long night.

  “Why do you think it was this dragon? He sounds like an ally,” Beanpole said, ever the pragmatist.

  “He said he would ‘look into it.’ That next day, the bouquet arrived.” She shrugged. While she’d wanted to trust Sebastian, it wasn’t like he’d made his disdain for people a secret.

  “It could be a coincidence,” Beanpole suggested.

  Drew shook his head. “I doubt it.”

  Jim also looked unconvinced. “The last thing Dwight said to me was about the guy having some effect on him. Dragons can do that, right? Compel people to do stuff or whatever?”

  She nodded. That was one of the skills Sebastian had helped her with. He was an expert in using his aura.

  “We need to operate under the assumption that your friend Sebastian is Mr Black,” the team leader said.

  Hernandez sucked a breath in through her teeth. “Shit. Do you really think so?”

  Mr Black was the only name they’d obtained from the few remaining gang members after the assault on the city.

  “Maybe he’s the real culprit, maybe not, but it feels like he’s a part of things.”

  Kristen agreed with him. If Sebastian didn’t have a part in this, she’d be shocked. She simply didn’t know who else could have unraveled that there had been a leak and had the ability to manipulate Dwight into divulging the lyrics he’d used as a code.

  “So…not to be a pussy, but this means we turn this shit over to Dragon SWAT, right?” Hernandez didn’t look proud of her suggestion, but there it was.

  Drew scratched his chin. “Yeah. Yeah, technically, that’s what we’re supposed to do. Dragons are their jurisdiction.”

  “That’ll leave the mercenaries loose, though, won’t it?” Butters asked.

  “For a little while, at least.” He nodded, his expression grim.

  “How fast will Dragon SWAT deal with accusations about Shadowstorm?” Beanpole asked.

  Kristen shrugged. “That’s a good question. From what I understand, he’s fairly well known. He threw Ironclaw off that roof and no one even blinked. I don’t think Dragon SWAT will take an accusation at face value. Especially not if…well, especially not if it comes from humans.” She looked at her team and tried to hide her embarrassment at no longer being human.

  “You’re saying we need proof,” Jim said. “Not circumstantial evidence.”

  Drew, Beanpole, and Butters nodded at that. Hernandez scowled, stood, and began to pace. She cursed under her breath the entire time.

  “Well, how do we get that? It’s not like we can send him a dropped pin and expect him to come into the station willingly,” Butters said.

  “No. He wouldn’t even check an email,” Kristen said but the beginnings of a plan formed in her head. It would be risky—damn risky—but mostly for her. Given how this was all her fault, she found that more than acceptable. For it to work, a couple of her assumptions had to be true. If she was wrong, she knew it would go poorly, but she didn’t think she was.

  “I was only kidding, Kristen.”

  “But you gave me an idea. I think it’s time for us to lay a trap of our own.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Drew burst into the lounge, despite having barely left with a cup of coffee. “Okay, people, get your asses in the van. We have a situation.”

  “Our guys?” Butters asked.

  He nodded. “It’s gotta be. An officer reported a perp who backed into his car and flipped him off for no apparent reason. He must have been baiting him. The officer called it in but still gave chase. He followed him to another abandoned building and tried to approach, but…” He mimed a gun being fired with his hand.

  “It definitely sounds like our guys,” Jim agreed.

  “Right, so stop staring at me and move.” Everyone bounded to their feet. It was an odd feeling to go willingly into a trap. They had the beginnings of a plan, but she felt a pang of dread in her chest. The people they pursued were hunting her. They would undoubtedly have a trap prepared and specifically designed to eliminate her, the strongest person on SWAT. If anyone on her team made even the slightest misstep, it would be disastrous. Weapons that could harm dragons would kill people. That was a given. But that didn’t mean they could stay home.

  They ran pell-mell through the station, geared up, and were in the van in less than two minutes. Tires squealed and they were on their way.

  After a minute of the tense silence that often led up to an action, Jim cleared his throat. “Hey, Kristen, I wanted to tell you, I’m sorry.” It was one of the most awkward sentences she had ever heard spoken aloud. He meant it, at least she thought he did, but there really was so much going on in the veteran’s mind. She wondered if maybe he’d seen a dragon when he’d served overseas.

  All that didn’t matter, though. What was important was keeping her team alive and stopping these criminals who thought they could play games with the Detroit Police Department.

  “No, Jim, you have nothing to apologize for.” She meant it too.

  “I really do, though. I treated you like shit because you’re a dragon and lost focus on the dragon who’s actually trying to hurt our city.”

  “I shouldn’t have followed you.” She wasn’t entirely sure she’d meant that. If she hadn’t followed him on the first night, his friend might still be alive. But if she hadn’t followed him on the second night, he would almost certainly have a bullet through his head already. What she regretted most was her dishonesty with the rest of her team.

  “Bullshit. I would’ve done the same thing. That wasn’t dragon behavior—you tailing me—that was good police work. Besides, I’d be dead if you didn’t use your dragon powers.” Admitting that seemed to take something out of him, some nugget of resentment and vengeance he’d clung to.

  “Welcome to working with the Steel Dragon.” Keith grinned. “Don’t worry, you get used to being saved by magic powers fairly quickly.”

  “Are we done playing pat your back and hug it out?” Hernandez looked like she’d watched grandparents make out—mostly disgusted but slightly impressed.

  The van halted a few moments later and Drew shoved it into park. “We’re here.”

  Kristen climbed out into the parking lot of an abandoned motel. This one was only three stories high with concrete corridors and stairways on the outside. It looked like it had been left to the forces of nature for quite some time. The roof sagged in places and vines made a valiant effort to pull one side of it down.

  A half-dozen police vehicles waited in the far corners of the parking area. Two of the cars had their windows destroyed, but that was the full
extent of the damage. There were no fatalities reported, either.

  “Jesus,” Hernandez grumbled. “This place is a fucking dump. It’s like they’re taunting us by attacking and destroying sites that are worthless. These guys are capable enough to probably fuck a bank up. But instead, they’re focused on a damn motel that even the rats don’t like.”

  Kristen thought that was a good thing. As little as she wanted to admit it, these people scared her. At least by using these old buildings, there weren’t any hostages involved.

  “Do we all remember the plan?” Drew said.

  Butters and Beanpole nodded and pointed to the nearest building. They were eyes.

  Keith pulled a tablet out. He had already brought up the floorplans of the building. “There’s an exit in the basement. It’s the old entrance to a steam tunnel.”

  “That’s where the trap will be then, not to mention the control center for their bombs,” Hernandez said.

  “Then that’s the last place you two go.” Drew looked pointedly at Kristen.

  She nodded in understanding. There was no way she’d let anyone else get hurt, not by her trying to rush in and play the hero.

  “Right, let’s do this,” the team leader said.

  “Wait, wait, wait,” Keith sputtered.

  “What?”

  “Hernandez was right. They’re using wireless to communicate with their bombs or whatever.”

  “Are you saying you can shut them down before we even go in?” Hernandez asked. A shot pinged off the side of the SWAT van. “Because I don’t think they would like that,” she finished.

  Keith fiddled with the tablet but eventually shook his head. “No…no, I can’t turn them off, but I think I can locate them.”

  “Excellent work, Rookie!” Drew said.

  “You know, I only know how to do this because I’ve been on the force for more than a year—”

  “What’s the plan, now?” Butters cut off his protests. He would always be Rookie.