Age of Dragons

by Olivia Ash

  “Something's not right,” Irena admits quietly, apparently sensing it, too.

  “Do we abort?” Levi asks simply.

  “We can't,” Irena says with a shake of her head. “We'll probably never get another opportunity. If this is a trap and we don't walk in, Zurie might blow this place to hell just to keep us from getting it.”

  “There's no point going in if we can't get out,” Jace says tensely.

  “We’ll never take down the Spectres unless we get that information,” Irena counters.

  “Rory, what does your dragon say?” Jace asks.

  I sit with the question for a moment. I want to make sure I give an honest answer. So, for a little while, I simply watch the storage facility and think.

  After a moment, I realize everyone is watching me and waiting for an answer.

  I frown, not entirely enjoying being the final say on this, but I close my eyes and listen intently to the dragon deep within me.

  She's wary, yes, but she's also primed and ready for a fight. There's the pump of adrenaline, the eagerness to dive into the fray.

  It's dangerous, but I know in my bones there's going to be a way out once we go in.

  “We go,” I say quietly. “But everyone has to be ready. I get the feeling we're going to walk into a firefight. Jace, that means we shift if we have no other way out. Are we all clear on that?”

  He frowns, his eyes narrowing as he clearly disagrees, and I have to confess he knows more about politics and treaties than I do.

  In terms of this mission, however—in terms of what's going to save the most lives and ensure that we're successful—we have to know there's a Plan B.

  “Let's hope it doesn't come to that,” Jace says simply. “The soldiers here are the best of the best. If there's a way out that doesn't involve shifting, we'll find it.”

  “Zurie's bringing the best of the best, too,” I point out.

  Jace's eyes start briefly toward me, and his frown deepens before he returns his attention to the storage facility. “Tech team, do we have anything?”

  “The signal’s jammed, sir,” somebody pipes through the comm in my ear. “We can't get a good signal or a good read.”

  “Damn it,” I mutter. “She’s here.”

  “They're definitely here,” Irena says with a small nod.

  I scan the unassuming storage facility, wondering where they're hiding, what they've set up for us, and if this is really worth going.

  It is, but I kind of wish it wasn’t.

  The Spectres have survived thus far because they have advanced technology and stealth training, as well as information and secrets that set them ahead of the pack. If we can take away their core advantage, we can destroy them once and for all.

  This is dangerous, but we absolutely have to do it.

  “Keep to the shadows,” I order raising my gun as I get to my feet. “Stay low.”

  “Move out,” Jace orders, and his soldiers jump to obey.

  We slink through the shadows toward the hole Irena cut in the fence not long ago. Before long, we've moved from the darkness of the forest into the shadow-ridden gloom of the facility.

  With almost no moon, there's very little to give us away. These soldiers move with stealth and perfection, barely giving away so much as a footstep as they cut through the night, and I'm grateful to be working with some of the best soldiers in the world.

  It’s a treat, honestly. Under any other circumstances, I would be practically giddy.

  With Irena leading the way, we charge through the corridors of the open facility, darting past identical rows of buildings riddled with padlocked doors. She takes us through the labyrinth, leading us into the middle—toward the most exposed section of the facility.

  I know she did this intentionally. She wanted to make sure the cases were protected and that if anyone but her got to them, she would know right away. But, damn it, this location just makes them harder to retrieve.

  “Squad Two moving in,” Drew says through the comm in my ear.

  My heart flutters a little bit with gratitude and relief that they're coming because the longer they're out of my sight, the more at risk they are of being hurt.

  They probably think the same about me.

  When we finally reach Irena’s locker, the soldiers fan out around us with their backs to the door, guns raised to give us cover.

  Irena enters a code on the padlock and tosses it aside when it opens. For a moment, she hesitates with her hand on the door handle, briefly waiting as the padlock thuds on the asphalt road that runs between the storage buildings.

  With a steadying breath, she opens the door.

  Inside the twenty-by-twenty storage room are four cases, each about five feet long. They're bulky, and they won't be easy to carry.

  “That's a lot of stuff, Irena,” I confess, scanning the cases.

  “It is,” she says with a nod. “And we need all of it.”

  “All right then,” I mutter, not loving this.

  She types in the code on a small pad at the top of the nearest case, and I do the same on the others. In moments, the cases are disabled—and now, we’re prime targets.

  This is the hairy bit—with the bombs deactivated, there’s more incentive for the Spectres to attack.

  We know they’re here. We know they’re waiting. And I suspect they were waiting for us to do this.

  With the motion bombs disabled, we'll actually be able to carry these out of here. This is the most vulnerable time, and at this point, anything could go wrong.

  Irena whistles softly, alerting the eight soldiers who are going to carry these cases out. They dart in, each of them holding a gun with one hand and grabbing a handle with the other. One by one, they funnel out until the storage facility is finally empty.

  Now the hard part. Getting these back to the dojo.

  “We're not picking up any chatter about you guys,” a soldier says to the comm in my ear. “As far as we can tell, it's all clear.”

  But I know better.

  It's not.

  We sweep through the facility again with the goal to leave the way we came in. With the butt of my rifle planted firmly against my shoulder, I take the lead once more, scoping all the space ahead of me with my gun raised.

  A fight is coming for us, and I'm ready.

  Somehow, I feel worse than before. I feel like we opened up Pandora's Box, and all of hell is about to fly out at us.

  We pause at the next corner, taking it slowly and making sure it's clear before we move. The fence is getting nearer, and a small part of me flickers with the hope that maybe we can actually leave without anything happening.

  But that's the hopeful part of us that can get us killed. I'm not about to let my guard down.

  In my periphery, I catch the barest hint of movement ahead. I tense, my finger hovering over the trigger, itching for a chance to blow someone to hell, if only to release some of this pent-up tension.

  As I scan the area where I saw the movement, nothing happens. No one else seemed to notice—not even Irena, who stalks beside me and effortlessly scans the world around us.

  We continue to walk toward it, taking every step slowly, alert as ever. But I focus on this area.

  Something about it is off. Even though it's just a shadowy dip in the wall, I don't like it. With the way the light plays around us, it looks like an impossible trick of the eye for it to be so dark.

  All of my Spectre training screams that it's the perfect hiding spot—just a little gap between two buildings, barely wide enough for a person.

  Hmm.

  It would be wide enough for me.

  If I were here, that’s where I’d hide.

  That’s where I’d wait for my prey to come to me.

  Jace walks beside me, his shoulders tensed and rifle at the ready. His eyes narrow as he scans the road ahead, his gaze darting occasionally to the roof. He’s never still, his focus constantly shifting and totally aware of his environment.

  E
xcept that he doesn’t see this shadowy void, either.

  Just me.

  As we near, most people don't even look at it. No one else seems to notice or care about it at all, but I watch it just to be careful.

  Just to be safe.

  As we pass the small gap, a shadow springs at us. No one else even seems to see it, but I see the glint of light across metal as whoever this is swings at Jace.

  Running on pure instinct, I drop my rifle and block the shadow’s arm. In that moment, the shadow becomes a man, and his bone shatters beneath my hands. He groans in agony, and the metal in his hand falls to the ground.

  Glass shatters as whatever he was holding breaks across the asphalt, and the sizzling crackle of burning acid fills the air.

  I briefly look at the ground to find a shattered syringe with green liquid pouring over the road. White smoke fizzles upward as it begins to eat away the ground.

  And this asshole was about to inject that into Jace.

  I punch the man in the throat. With a black scarf covering his mouth, I can't recognize him—I’ve worn that same scarf before on many a mission.

  It’s standard Spectre attire.

  I don't care who this jackass is.

  He tried to kill Jace, so he’s going to die.

  The stranger swings at me, a lightning-fast jab aimed for my neck. A second syringe glistens in the low-light, and this one apparently has my name on it.

  Nope. Not today.

  I duck his blow. Still choking and disoriented from my original attack, he swings again at me. This time, I grab his wrist and snap his hand backward. His wrist cracks, and he lets out a muffled scream.

  In a fluid, seamless movement, I grab the syringe as it falls from his hand. I sweep out his leg, and as he falls forward, I jab the needle into his throat before he even has a chance to move.

  With my thumb against the end of the syringe, I inject the whole thing into his body in the blink of an eye as he falls to the ground.

  The moment he hits the asphalt, he spasms. His face twitches as his skin slowly turns green. White froth foams at his mouth, and the choking gets worse. He looks up at me, but as he does, his eyes roll back into his head, and I see nothing but white. Moments later, he goes still, and the white foam slowly drips from his mouth onto the ground.

  I pick up my rifle, ready for another attack should the need arise, and turn to find Jace watching me with wide eyes.

  He looks briefly at the man before returning his attention toward me. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, of course,” I say calmly. “Let's go.”

  But we don't get the chance to even move.

  One second, the path is clear and quiet—the next, we’re swarmed.

  Hooded figures cloaked in black come from everywhere. From every shadow.

  The pop of gunfire fills the air.

  Our response is reactive, and I shoot at everything the moves. The recoil from my rifle jolts my shoulder again and again as I fire. I wish to the gods that I had cover. Right now, the only thing keeping me alive is the fact that I can fire faster than my opponents.

  We're in the middle of a firefight with four bombs at the center of our party.

  This could not be worse.

  “Russell, get in here,” Jace orders into the comm. “We need backup. Now!”

  “Already on our way, sir,” Russell responds, and I can hear the rustle of clothing and leaves as he races to join us.

  Movement in my periphery catches my attention, and I look up to find a Spectre on the roof. With one shot, I take him out, and his body thuds against the ground beside us.

  “Retreat!” Jace shouts, ushering us into one of the only pathways that isn't currently being swarmed by figures dressed in all black.

  The attack is fierce and furious, and we barely take cover behind one of the buildings before a hail of gunfire explodes across it. Sparks light the night, and I curse under my breath.

  This could not be worse.

  A louder thunder of gunfire catches my attention from another direction, and I peek around the corner to find Drew and Tucker leading the charge of Squad Two as they join us. The Spectres begin to fall back, taking cover and jumping onto the roofs to get out of the line of fire, and I let out a slow breath of relief.

  “You trying to have fun without us?” Drew asks as he joins me, kneeling at my side.

  Levi chuckles. “Wouldn't dream of it,” he says as he lifts his gun and fires off a few rounds into the shadows.

  “They're going to swarm us soon,” I warn as I reload my rifle. “We can't let them separate us. Everybody stick close.”

  “We have to get out of here,” Irena barks as a hail of gunfire rains across the nearby wall. “These buildings aren't going to last much longer, and it won't be long before the sirens come. The clock is ticking because Zurie would rather blow up everything here than let us escape.”

  “Fair point,” I admit.

  The patter of footsteps across the roof catches my attention, and I raise my rifle as four Spectres dive at me. One hits me in the chest, knocking my gun away as I fall to the ground. The Spectre lifts a knife, and the dark sultry eyes of a woman with a scarf across her nose and mouth glare at me as light glints off the metal.

  Without missing a beat, I punch her in the throat. She chokes, but the pain isn’t enough to stop her. She brings the knife down at my face, but I don't give her the chance to stab me. I lift my head out of the way, and the metal hits the cement hard, casting a few sparks into the night before I grab her wrist and twist it.

  The snap of cracking bones bursts through the gunfire around us, and she winces. I lift my knee and kick her hard in the gut, knocking her backward before she can so much as stand.

  With her distracted, I grab her knife off the ground and hurl it at her. It lands solidly in her chest, and her eyes go wide as she takes a few steps backward. She falls, crumbling to the ground, and I pick up my rifle as another Spectre aims a handgun at the back of Irena’s head.

  Irena seems to sense him, and she twists around.

  She’s not fast enough.

  I fire off a bullet before he can do anything, and he collapses to the ground. Irena’s gaze quickly darts between me and the corpse before she nods to me in thanks and steals his handgun.

  She and I press our backs together, guns raised as we systematically take out anything that moves that's not one of my men or one of Jace’s soldiers.

  As I scan the area around me, I find Tucker and Levi doing the same, both men bantering and grinning as they fire into the night. I can't hear what they're saying over the rattle of gunfire, but it doesn't matter.

  As long as they're alive.

  Not far off, Drew and Jace fight fluidly next to each other, each man watching the other's back as the battle wears on. As my eyes briefly roam across them, Jace fires a head shot at a Spectre who has his gun aimed toward Drew's chest. Drew nods briefly in thanks before returning the favor, taking out a soldier on the roof who was coiled and ready to spring at the dojo master.

  I wish those two could get over their hatred for each other and see what a brilliant team they are.

  “Jace, we need you all to shift!” I shout.

  “It could start a war, Rory,” he snaps back. “There's a way out of this. I know it.”

  “Yeah, shifting!” I shout back as I fire off around at a Spectre who's climbing over the roof.

  I grimace in annoyance and look upward. I need to get a clear view of everything that's going on. If we're going to get out of here, we need to do it soon.

  “Irena, cover me,” I order as I jump toward the roof, grabbing the edge and lifting myself onto it.

  Jace loudly curses, but I don't care. I'm not about to get myself shot. That's really not the goal of this. I just need a better view.

  I keep low, scanning the paths around us, only to discover that all of them are covered with various Spectres at every strategic point. There must be dozens, and I wonder how it's even possible Zurie w
as able to coordinate all of them.

  Come to think of it, I can’t figure out why I haven’t run into her, yet.

  It makes me wonder if, perhaps, she isn’t even here. I can’t tell if that’s a good sign—or a truly horrible one.

  To my disappointment, I notice three open lockers across the facility. Several Spectres are wheeling something out of each of them, and for a moment, I can't tell what kind of weapon or machinery they've brought with them.

  Seconds later, however, they roll an anti-dragon artillery gun out of the nearest locker, and I shake my head in frustration.

  This just keeps getting better.

  Someone spots me, and they fire off a few rounds in my direction. I drop to the roof and slide off, landing on my feet in the middle of my team.

  “There are anti-dragon guns being wheeled out. Three total,” I say. “They're trying to keep us grounded, and we only have a few seconds before they get these things op—”

  An explosion rocks the ground, throwing us all off-balance. A large chunk of the far end of the building goes up in flames.

  “I think they're operational,” Tucker says dryly.

  I grimace. “We destroy them, and then—Jace, we’ve got to shift. Zurie’s counting on us not to!”

  “Fine,” Jace admits through gritted teeth as he shoots the last of the Spectres in our stretch of the facility. “I'll give the order.”

  “Good. Thank you,” I say. “Irena, which—“

  Irena peeks around the edge of a building, her gun raised, and a gunshot echoes through the air. Though I initially figure it's from her gun, she grimaces and holds her side. She drops her weapon on the ground, doubling over with her hand at her waist.

  She's been hit, and if she dropped her weapon, it’s bad.

  I run to her, holding her in my arms as I check the wound. I lift her hand to find a pool of blood staining her fingers, and a dark red liquid rhythmically pulses from the hole in her side.

  “We need to get out here,” Drew says as he kneels beside me, ripping off a makeshift bandage from the bottom of his shirt. He wraps the fabric around Irena's waist, keeping pressure on the wound itself as he looks at me. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

  I nod. “Will you carry her?”

  Irena grimaces, her jaw tense. “I will not be carried out of—“