Delta Force: Crow (Wayward Souls)

by Kris Norris

  Devlyn seemed oblivious to the danger, popping out and firing up the hallway—keeping Slader pinned down. Crow took advantage of the cover fire and darted out when a canister clicked on the floor a few feet in front of him.

  Grenade. Either a flash bang or smoke. Hell, it could be incendiary knowing Slader, but too damn close to miss. To avoid. Crow managed a step back—tossed his own countermeasure up the hallway in the hopes of trapping Slader in the same fashion—before he was bowled to the floor and rolled behind the corner just as the first canister exploded. Sent a fury of smoke, sound and light through the hallway. Rattled his damn head as they tumbled a few more feet—slammed into the wall as the second grenade followed suit. Sent dust billowing through the air. Vibrations thrumming through the floor.

  Paralyzed. That’s how he felt. Pain pulsing through his head. Nothing working. His arms. Legs. Just lying there on the floor, tangled with Devlyn. The hallway tilting left and right. Ears ringing. His limbs trembling.

  Were those footsteps? Or just his head? Tapping along with his heart? Each beat followed by a painful stab through his temples. Whatever it was, he couldn’t risk lying there, waiting for Slader to charge around the corner—finish them off.

  Crow didn’t need to go far. Just get them back to the other junction—step behind that corner. Any kind of cover until his brain was functioning, again. Hell, he could fire blindly up the hallway, if necessary. Keep Slader pinned down while his muscles regained some semblance of control.

  Which meant moving. Pushing off the floor and stumbling the twenty feet separating them from safety. From the chance at staying alive. But, damn if he could move. Get his body to execute his commands.

  Too close. Despite Devlyn’s best efforts—the fact she’d saved his ass—he’d been too close to override the effects of the grenade. To muscle through like he’d done a thousand times in the field.

  Hands on his shoulders. Yanking him upright. Leaning him against the wall just long enough to scoop Devlyn off the floor. Then, an arm around his waist, his weight braced against solid muscle as he was all but dragged down the hallway and around the next corner.

  Crow blinked, but the guy had turned—was already firing down the hallway. Right where he and Devlyn had been lying moments before. Where just getting his fingers to move had taken a heroic effort. Just like standing there, leaning against the wall without falling to the floor. Joining Devlyn as she sat braced against the concrete.

  Fingers snapped in front of his face, clearing some of the hazy feeling in his head. He stared at the man, groaning when the hallway shifted, again.

  A snort, accompanied by more gunfire, though, Crow had a hard time following the string of events. Puzzle out who was actually firing. Not with his head throbbing. With the scenery freezing for several moments before rushing ahead.

  He should have insisted they wear protective gear for their eyes and ears, but…it would have limited their ability to react to a dynamic situation. Hearing a boot scuff the floor a hallway over. Seeing a flash of movement in an adjoining room. They couldn’t risk giving up those abilities on the off-chance someone used a flash bang against them.

  “Crow. Come on, buddy, snap out of it.”

  That voice. Christ, could it be?

  Crow blinked, finally got his vision to stabilize. Focus on the guy standing a few feet away. Brown hair, longer than regulation, but typical of Special Forces. To blend in. Appear anything other than what they were. It matched the trimmed beard shadowing his jaw. Made his green eyes stand out in stark contrast. “Dungeon?”

  Mason Cross, aka Dungeon to his teammates. Part of Alpha’s other squad led by Aaron West, fondly known as Priest. A freaking ghost out of thin air as far as Crow was concerned.

  Dungeon grinned, shoving Crow and Devlyn farther over as he returned more fire. “If you’re asking a question, you’ve gotten softer than I thought working for the Agency.”

  Crow grunted, finally pushing off the wall only to slam back against it. “Still a cocky son of a bitch. I’d hoped Priest had drilled that out of you, by now.”

  He chuckled. “Like the man ever could.” He nodded toward Devlyn. “She okay?”

  “We just got pummeled with a flash bang at seven paces. I’m thankful my hair isn’t singed.” He cupped Devlyn’s chin, exhaling when she blinked, then opened her eyes. “You okay, sweetheart?”

  Devlyn groaned, palming her head. “If feeling like I got hit with a convoy is okay, then, yeah.” She inhaled, tripping a step as she stumbled to her feet—caught sight of Dungeon. “Who…”

  Dungeon just nodded, ducking back when more bullets pelted the wall opposite them. “Mason Cross, though, the guys all call me Dungeon. So, you’re Devlyn.” The jackass winked at her. “We can do proper introductions and explanations later. First, I need to get you two out of here.”

  She shook her head, palming the wall to stay on her feet. “Slader’s in the next hallway. He’s after my asset. She’s the only one who has any answers.” She looked pointedly at Dungeon. “We need her.”

  “Need and can-do are two different scenarios. They’ve got AR-15s and AKs. I’ve got a Sig with only two more clips. Even with your Beretta and Crow’s Glock, we’re out-gunned. Probably out-manned. Not to mention they might have more grenades. Ones that actually shoot nasty bits out at you instead of just a light and sound show.”

  “Isn’t that why you’re here? To even the playing field?”

  He laughed, looking over at Crow. “I like her. And while I love your faith—”

  “Hey, Crow? You still alive? Or, is that you, Adams?”

  Fuck. Slader.

  Crow edged over to the corner, motioning for Dungeon to stay back. The last thing they needed was Slader discovering Dungeon’s involvement. Have the rogue agent go after the rest of Alpha.

  “Take your pick, Slader. We’re both still breathing. Though, I don’t plan on you staying that way for long.”

  “Tough talk for a guy who’s pinned in a hallway. Escaping the flash bang was a nice touch. Didn’t think you’d be able to muscle through. Not when it was that close.”

  “Guess you don’t really know what I’m capable of. Why don’t we talk face-to-face and settle this?”

  “Always the soldier. Wanting to tackle everything head-on. Except where I’m holding all the cards.”

  “Funny. It doesn’t look that way from where I’m standing. Though, I’ll admit. Breaking into the NSA? That took balls, even for you.”

  “Sometimes you have to take the hard road to get ahead. You see, I know your weakness.”

  “That so?”

  “Everything for a teammate, right? Never leave one behind. All that hoo-yah bullshit you live by. Your damn creeds. Which means, you’ll do anything to save a life. And not just Devlyn’s.” Footsteps then silence. “I thought you wanted to do this face-to-face, Crow?”

  Crow took the bait. Had a quick look, only to curse. Slader stood in the middle of the hallway, a woman locked against him. Gun to her temple. A curl of chestnut hair wrapping around the muzzle. One eye looked puffy, and there was blood on her lip. She’d fought. Hard. Three other guys surrounded him, assault rifles notched into their shoulders. Body armor. Vests with more firepower strapped to the front.

  Slader grinned, motioning Crow to move into the hallway. “If I was going to kill you outright, Ward, we wouldn’t be talking.”

  Crow glanced at Devlyn. Mouthed at her to stay there then stepped out. Gun aimed directly at Slader.

  Slader looked at the weapon then back to Crow. “I’d hoped to get this all settled at the warehouse. I wasn’t there to kill you, by the way.”

  “Really? So, all those militia assholes you brought along? The drone and the bullets flying? They were just, what, misunderstandings?”

  “They were my insurance plan, which kicked in when you went all action-hero on me. Good help is so hard to find, these days. Though, I can’t help but wonder who was in the warehouse with Adams. I thought, for sure, it was y
ou. That you two had come alone. Let me guess, Six? Colt?”

  Crow merely stared at the man.

  “Doesn’t matter. It’s always one of your ex-Delta buddies. The whole lot of them are a fucking pain in my ass. Which brings me to that the sniper…” He whistled. “There’re only a handful of shooters in the world who could hit targets at that range. Even fewer who would only target me and my crew. That’s when I knew. Your buddy, Vale. Kid’s got insane skills. I thought he’d died in that crash in Afghanistan, but it turns out, you Delta boys are like cockroaches. You just keep coming back. But, it gave me an idea.”

  Damn. He knew about Phoenix.

  Crow shrugged. “You gonna get to the point, Slader, or are you gonna talk me to death?”

  “The point, Ward, is that Vale has the same weakness you do.” He yanked on the woman, making her grunt. “And I’ve got her.”

  “I thought she worked for you? Was only using Vale to get close to us? To Bains’ list?”

  “Shit. How the hell are you and Devlyn still breathing when you have no idea what’s really going on?”

  “Then, enlighten me.”

  “You think this is all about Bains’ list.”

  “You decimated my team to secure him then killed the man trying to get him to recreate it. Spurred McCormick down the same path until you got him killed. Seems like a logical conclusion.”

  Slader nodded, looking far too nonchalant for the situation. “When Ellis stole those files from McCormick’s hard drive, did she discover anything…interesting?”

  “You’d have to ask her. I was busy getting shot by you at the time.”

  “Still touchy about that, I see.”

  “The point, Slader.”

  “Let’s assume Ellis deciphered enough to realize that McCormick was just another pawn, albeit, a high ranking one. That he answered to someone with far more power.”

  “That’s old news. I thought you were going to enlighten me?”

  “Fine. Does the name Smyth mean anything to you?”

  “Seriously? Smith?”

  “Whoever held McCormick’s reins goes by the name Smyth. With a damn ‘y’ to make it believable. I thought he was CIA, but it’s not that simple. Turns out, this is far more convoluted.”

  “Still waiting for you to tell me something I can give a fuck about.”

  “Maybe you’ll give a fuck when his damn assassins show up on your doorstep gunning for you and Devlyn. Or, maybe they’ll come for Ellis.”

  “Now, you’re not making any sense.”

  “It turns out that this Smyth, asshole, has decided all of McCormick’s assets are a liability to his continued ability to keep breathing. So, he’s decided to liquidate them.”

  “You’re saying this Smyth guy is sending out wet squads?”

  “To eliminate anyone who worked for McCormick. You following, now, Ward?”

  “Right up until the part where we need to be having a conversation. I pretty much think everyone is out to kill me.”

  “Not like this. You think I’m bad, that McCormick was relentless? Just wait.”

  “Okay, I’m listening.”

  “I have some intel that will shed light onto our mystery man’s true identity. Which is why I arranged for this reunion. Those disks that Devlyn found at the warehouse? I left them there for you. They contain information, which, when pieced together with some other intelligence I’ve uncovered, will lead me to this bastard, Smyth.”

  Crow arched his brow. “Wait. If you have the intel, why would you give it to us, unless…” He laughed. “Fuck, you can’t hack the coding, can you?”

  “Obviously, my guy isn’t as skilled as Ellis.”

  “So, you rattled enough cages to get the CIA to bring me back. Then faked that hit at the motel to get Devlyn involved, not to mention you’ve kept us guessing by sending a shit ton of your associates out to take shots at us, all so my ex-Delta team could decipher encrypted files for you?”

  “Please. You never would have agreed to discuss this if I’d asked nicely. Actions always garner a truer reaction. And there’s the part where my ass is on the line. Do you really think you’d still be alive if Smyth hadn’t hired Vale to kill us? Because I’m betting his loyalty is the only reason you’re still breathing.”

  “How do you know Vale was working for him? That he was the sniper at the warehouse?”

  “Again, not sure how you and Devlyn are still alive. Let’s just say I have associates who benefit from my continued work. They did some checking, and it seems Smyth offered to exchange my companion, here, for Vale’s assistance in a sensitive matter. Doesn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure out we were that sensitive matter.”

  “It doesn’t matter who sent Vale. There’s no way I’m giving you top secret intel because you say someone’s out to kill us.”

  “You mentioned something about me sending some associates out to toy with you. For the record, I’ve only made two attempts. One, at the motel with Devlyn. The other, at the warehouse. If you’ve had other company, it’s not my doing.”

  “And I’m just supposed to believe you? That this is all for the greater good? No secret agendas, just capping a bad guy out to kill both of us?”

  “Believe whatever you want. But I think you’re starting to see this for what it really is. A giant shit show with all of us in staring rolls.” He scoffed when Crow just stood there, staring. “Do you seriously think I’d go to these lengths if my life wasn’t on the line?”

  “I think you’re batshit crazy.”

  “Maybe. But not crazy enough to get involved with you or Adams, again, if I had the choice. Your extended family is just too damn unpredictable for my wellbeing.”

  “Even if you’re right—if there are more assholes gunning for us—it doesn’t mean I’ll make the trade.”

  “You came here to grab her. You’ll make the trade.”

  “Don’t bet on it.”

  “Guess I’ll just have to call your bluff on this one, then.” Slader held up a phone then slid it down the hallway. “Forty-eight hours. We’ll discuss the terms, then. And I doubt I have to mention she’s dead if you screw me over on this.”

  He motioned to his men. They moved in unison, blocking any viable shot as they did something to the exit behind Slader—opened the damn door. One last grin, then the bastard was gone. Nothing but the lingering scent of propellant heavy in the air. The faint ringing in Crow’s ears.

  He shook his head, leaning against the wall as Dungeon stepped out, grabbing Devlyn’s arm when she stumbled. She blinked a few times, shuffling in beside Crow—bracing her weight on the wall.

  Dungeon crossed his arms over his chest, glancing at the exit then back. “Can’t win them all, Crow. And, at least, you’re both still breathing. Have a chance to catch that guy’s ass at whatever rendezvous spot he’ll pick out for the transfer. Because we both know there’s going to be a transfer.”

  Crow snorted. “If only that made me feel better. Slader slipping away is starting to become an annoying habit. One I need to break.” He smiled at Dungeon. “Thanks, by the way. For saving our asses. Your timing was perfect.”

  “Nothing I love better than swooping in and saving the day.”

  “Nice to see you’re as humble as ever. Though, you showing up is a bit of a surprise.”

  “Hey. When Cannon or Priest sends out an SOS, you don’t ask questions, you just hustle your ass to the coordinates. Luckily, I was on a layover at the airport—on my way to Vegas to do some soul searching. Didn’t take much to cancel the ticket. Grab my stuff. I hadn’t even gotten out of the rental car at your safehouse when some guy named Gibson just jumped in. Told me to ‘fucking drive before he put a round in my arse.’ Are all Brits that annoying?”

  “Gibson brought you? Shit, Brady’s gonna have a cow. And, no, just him.”

  “All I know is that he knew where to go. Took out two tangoes who were patrolling the rear with knives.” Dungeon grunted. “I didn’t even see him throw them. Anyway
, we made our way inside. Found Devlyn’s boss, and you know the rest. Gibson headed topside to get Smithers some help. Said something about his buddy being a doctor. About Ice being around. I don’t know. Guess we’ll find out.”

  He eyed Devlyn. “You steady enough to walk?”

  She smiled sweetly at him. “Do I have to pop you in the jaw as proof? Or will you take my word on it?”

  “You’re exactly how I pictured you’d be when Gibson outlined the situation on the drive over.” He waved at the corridor. “After you.”

  Devlyn pushed away from the wall, wavering a bit before striking off, her stride only slightly off-balance. Crow followed, stopping when Dungeon hooked his elbow. He glanced at Devlyn then back to his buddy.

  Dungeon pursed his mouth, looking at where Slader had disappeared. “I might not have all the intel, but it sounds like Vale’s involved in this, too. And not in a good way.”

  “Seems like it, though, I don’t know too much. Phoenix wasn’t in the mood to chat when he ambushed us at the safehouse.”

  “He ambushed your safehouse?”

  “Got a real good look at his Sig until he finally decided he’d rather take a swing at me.”

  “Growing up the way he did... It’s never been a secret he’s got demons.” Dungeon sighed. “But I’ll be honest. He hasn’t been the same since that crash. The few times I saw him, he was…edgy. And that’s saying a lot with respect to him. I just hope you have a plan because regardless of who that lady really is, we both know you won’t let anyone hurt her. Let alone Ian Slader. And, yeah, Gibson had a lot to say about him.”

  “I guess that depends on what Ellis finds on those disks. As far as I know, they didn’t have anything interesting on them.”

  “Sounds like another typical mission. Very little info, and everything going for shit. Let’s just hope your team is sharper than you because…your eyes are still bouncing around.”

  “Jackass.”