Sloth

by Lana Pecherczyk

  It was clear she knew nothing about Gale’s untimely death. He’d been dark about that at first, but after a few hours of physical activity, the distrust drained away. All that was left was a connection that tugged at his chest, keeping him tethered to the woman walking in front of him. He didn’t know what it meant. He didn’t know if he could go back to who they used to be, but he knew it was a start.

  “Stop moping, Sloan.” Parker’s grumble reached Max with a gust of warm wind.

  “I’m not.”

  “Yeah, yeah, you are.” Tony stopped, turned and put his hands on his hips. “I can’t take it anymore. And there’s no more booze, so, suck it up and let us get on with it.”

  “What’s all this?” Max strode up.

  Sloan bit the corner of her bottom lip.

  It was Parker who answered. “Sloan needs to train.” He turned to his younger sister. “Try putting up an emotional shield.”

  “And how do I do that?” She shifted her weight to the other leg.

  “Meditate, or some shit,” Tony snapped.

  “Like you know what you’re talking about. The only time you meditate is in front of a camera.”

  “Harsh, Sloan.” Tugging his bag from his shoulder, he inspected the contents. “I can’t deal with this. I need a drink.”

  “Christ’s sake, Tony. It’s only been a few hours since your last one.” Parker frowned at his brother. “There’s none left.”

  “It’s cool.” Tony zipped his bag back up, eyes darting around, wild eyed. “I’m good.”

  “No, you’re not.” Parker dabbed the man on the forehead. “You’re burning up.”

  Tony had a peaky sheen of perspiration not present on Sloan or Parker. He looked ill… or like he was going through some kind of advanced withdrawal. With their physiology, who knew how long toxins took to get out of his system.

  “Maybe I’ve got some uppers,” Tony murmured, reopening his sack and tipping it upside down. Supplies and contents spilled everywhere. “I’m sure I put something in there.”

  Drugs?

  Shit.

  Max caught Sloan’s worried stare.

  “You don’t have any, because I emptied your bag before we left.” Parker folded his arms.

  “What?” Tony gasped. “You had no right to do that.”

  “Excuse me?” Parker replied. “I’m the leader of this Godforsaken group. It’s my responsibility to ensure you’re not wired off your nuts while we’re on a mission. So, yeah. It is my right.”

  “Well, now look at me. If I don’t stop to puke on the way there, it will be your lucky day. I hope you’re happy.”

  “I’ll be happy when you’re checked into rehab.” Parker crouched and began packing Tony’s belongings back into his bag. “I swear to God, I’m the only one out of you lot who has their shit together.”

  Tony laughed at this. “Are you for real? You can’t take a dump unless it’s on a gold plated rim, bro. That you’re so uptight about not being the first of us to find their mate is laughable.”

  The dark scowl Parker shot his brother could have stripped leaves from the shrubs surrounding them. “Fuck you, Tony. Pick up your own goddamned mess.” Then Parker straightened, smoothed his shirt and strode off. Tony threw his hands in the air and jogged after his brooding brother. “Aw, come on, Parks. Don’t be like that.”

  Tony’s rucksack was left upended on the desert ground.

  “Um,” Max said. “Should I?” Yeah, he should. He dropped his sack and collected the man’s belongings, shaking sand from each item.

  On a sigh, Sloan did the same. “Sorry, Max.”

  He paused, hand in the bag. “It’s fine. Things like this happen with intense situations. If you all haven’t been working as a unit, it’s even more likely to happen.”

  “I meant, I’m sorry about everything. The way we ended. All this crap. The goddamned state of the world. Gale.” She covered his hand with hers. “This probably isn’t what you imagined when you accepted the job, huh?”

  “No. It wasn’t.” He resumed packing, gathering fallen bottles. But, then again, he’d only accepted the job because he wanted to see her again. “Jesus. There’s six hip flasks in here. All empty.”

  “Yeah, Tony’s got a habit. I shouldn’t have baited him.”

  Gluttony.

  Max frowned. “And this is what can be eased when he finds a mate?”

  She nodded, standing up with the last of the items. “Except, where he’s concerned, I’m not sure if the addictions will switch off, just like that.”

  She paused, opened her mouth to speak more, but shut it again, then scratched the back of her neck.

  “What is it?” Max took the last items from her and closed Tony’s pack. “Spit it out.”

  “I just want you to know, that you don’t have to do anything you don’t want. You don’t have to accept this mating business.”

  The wind whipped around them for a few seconds while they stared at each other. Stars glittered in her eyes, and he was struck, once again with how attracted he was to her. Even after all this time, across years, oceans and cyberspace, she was better in real life and he found his lungs struggling to draw breath.

  He didn’t have to accept the mating bond, so what did he want?

  Someone else to be mated to her?

  Hell, no. Shocked at the vehement response, he blinked. The very thought of Sloan with someone else made him sick to the stomach.

  He took a deep breath, tasted her scent in the air and closed his eyes to savor the sensation. Despite everything, he couldn’t deny how she made him feel.

  “Maybe I’m okay with it,” he murmured, tension in his shoulders releasing.

  Her lashes lifted. “Really?”

  “I mean, I’m just saying, I’ll help you if you need it. I won’t leave you struggling like Tony. You need physical contact, right?”

  “Yeah. Any touch between us resets my internal equilibrium. Constant contact keeps it that way.”

  “Well, we can work out a schedule or something.”

  She exhaled in a rush, shoulders drooping. “Oh. Okay. Thanks.”

  Maybe he wanted more than a schedule too, but he wasn’t ready to deal with that just yet. He locked that emotion away in another box and hoisted Tony’s pack on his other shoulder. He staggered with the extra weight. The bag had protective gear and more weapons inside.

  “Here,” she said, taking the bag. “We can hold it together.”

  The bag dangled between them as they continued to walk. He’d seen Gale walk like this with his wife, except instead of the bag was a toddler. Max felt a simultaneous longing—both for his friend, and for a family of his own. The crew at Nightingale Securities were his family… but he wanted more. He yearned for more. Maybe it was all just a pipe dream. If a good man like Gale couldn’t have the dream, then a man who got dishonorably discharged sure as hell couldn’t have it.

  Not long now.

  After a while, he noticed the unsettled feeling in him remained. When he looked at Sloan, he could make out the line between her brows. Parker and Tony were right; Without her blocking out her feelings, the mission could be compromised.

  “I think I have a way for you to select which emotions you project,” he said.

  She stopped, pulling him back by the rucksack between them. “You do?”

  “Don’t look so surprised.”

  “I’m not. I just didn’t think you’d know much about this stuff.”

  He shrugged. “I was taught how to compartmentalize my emotions.”

  “Compartmentalize.”

  “Yeah.” He tugged her onwards. “You visualize your emotions and painful memories, and then store them in a box. File them away for later use. It’s not recommended to use this system for your whole life otherwise you’ll end up an unfeeling robot, but for this situation, I think it can help.”

  “Okay. I'm listening.”

  “So… think of a box.”

  “Any box?”

 
“Make each box different and relevant to the emotion or sensation you’re storing.”

  “Any color?”

  “Whatever is easier to associate that feeling with, Sloan.”

  “Got it.”

  “Now, every time you feel an emotion you want to store for later use, put it in the box. Keep your process the same, envision yourself closing up the box, and keeping it contained. Then distance yourself and put a routine in place that will help cleanse your mind.”

  “What kind of routine?”

  “It will have to be something you can do anywhere and do it quickly. Like, hum a song to yourself, or recite some words.”

  She gasped, face lighting up. “Like a magic spell.”

  He huffed a laugh. “Yeah, okay, like that.”

  “Hmm. I’m going to use one from the Elder Scrolls.”

  “I haven’t played that game yet.”

  “You haven't? That’s a travesty we must fix.”

  They continued walking together while Sloan worked on her process. He spouted random Latin words and, after a while, Max forgot about her efforts, but then a spear of lust shot through him and he stumbled, dropping his hold on Tony’s pack. His heart rate sky rocketed, and prickling heat engulfed him. What the hell?

  “Sorry,” Sloan murmured. “Guess it worked.”

  The erotic surge in his body dampened. Barely.

  “It was the strongest feeling I could recall on the spot.” She bit her lip. “All good now?”

  “Yeah. Right.” He plucked his sweaty shirt, forcing his ragged breath to ease.

  “Stop doing that.” Heavy-lidded eyes watched him avidly, and a trickle of heat zinged through him again.

  “Bugger.” He tugged at his pants, adjusting. He was hard. Just like that. “You just gave me a hit of Viagra, Sloan.”

  “My bad.” But the smile on her face couldn’t be contained.

  Movement from up ahead drew their attention. The shadowed forms of Parker and Tony waved back at them.

  “Do they want us?”

  “Shh.” Sloan waved him down, alertness replacing her mood. “I hear something.”

  A low, buzz came from overhead.

  “Drone,” Sloan spat. “Take cover.”

  They dropped to the ground, rolling near a tree. Max became like the dead, but Sloan ruffled around in her bag, cursing.

  “I should have had this out instead of carrying Tony’s damn pack.” She pulled out a small black box and explained: “This is a signal jammer.”

  She flicked a switch on the box, and they waited. A few heartbeats later, and the sound of the drone cut off, followed by a crashing sound as the machine collided with nature.

  Sloan scrambled up. “We need to hurry. They’ll come and investigate soon.”

  When Max attempted to collect Tony’s pack, she stopped him. “Leave it. It’s his own fault if he misses it.”

  Then she took off, full pelt toward her brothers. Max cast a latent look at the pack. He could leave it. But that wasn’t his style. Never assume. He hoisted it on his back, braced and adjusted his weight, then followed in the direction Sloan took. Heavy boots thudded and crunched across the uneven ground. Catching up, panting heavily, he slipped the pack off and shoved it at Tony. The man took it on instinct. Even under the soft light of the stars, he could see the green tinge to Tony’s complexion. That wasn’t good.

  “We’re close,” Sloan was saying, pointing North-East. “Somewhere just over there.”

  Max followed her direction, squinting at the shadows. He couldn't see a thing.

  “Yeah, I got it,” Parker noted. “Military compound. Fenced. Guarded.”

  Damn. How could he see from there? Max squinted again, wondering if now was the time to pull out his night vision goggles. He did, slipping them onto his head and tugging them down. Parker was right. A few hundred meters away sat the start of the compound. After the break in the trees, there was a fenced compound with a few buildings, but behind the buildings, dug into the mountain side was another big tunnel. The site could be enormous behind that, going deep underground.

  Damn. Who were these Syndicate people?

  It was a lot of ground to cover for a quick recon mission.

  “Right. Where to first?” he asked.

  “Max, you head with Sloan,” Parker replied. “I’ll go with Tony. Put your jackets on. Activate your mics and ear-comms.”

  “Affirmative.” He did as told and caught Sloan doing the same. She’d retrieved her night goggles, too, but instead of a camera, held her rugged terrain iPad.

  Parker pulled out four black balaclavas and threw one to each of the crew. They each donned a jacket made of some custom thin material from Parker’s company. Stronger than Kevlar vests, but light and easy to wear. It took Max a moment, but then he realized the jackets were like their Deadly Seven combat uniform, but without the distinguishable D7 logo.

  That knowledge gave him a sense of pride. They trusted him, completely.

  Amused, Parker watched Max adjust the fitting on the jacket, and then he explained: “At first glance, this disguise could belong on any mercenary group. If they catch us on camera, we don’t want their first conclusion to be the Deadly Seven.”

  If all went well, they’d see no action. This was a quiet, secret intelligence-gathering mission. But with these guys, Max was fast learning to expect the unexpected.

  As he checked the rounds in his Glock, he wished for his crew. They worked well together, like another limb of the same body. He knew they’d have his back, and he would have theirs. But the less they knew about this side of the Lazaruses, the safer it was for them.

  After dumping their rucksacks near a bush, the four of them trotted closer to the site. Adrenaline pumped in Max’s veins and gave him a second wind.

  Outside the mountain, there were five to ten warehouse type buildings, a few residential houses, and one admin type building.

  “That’s the one you want, Sloan,” Parker said. “The admin.”

  “Got it.”

  “We’ll take the rest. Ready, Tony?”

  Tony rolled his balaclava down and lifted his hood. “Let’s go sightseeing.”

  They paired off, and soon it was just Max and Sloan in the darkness. She had her device out, fingers tapping away as they approached the buildings.

  “Almost done,” she murmured as they came to a halt near a chain-link fence.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “I just updated the code that recognized Barry’s face and prints to recognize any of ours instead.”

  Max checked the guards standing at the closest door, a soft light flickering overhead from the eaves. The building was a large warehouse. The kind that usually housed weapons, or vehicles. Two men, military uniform, assault rifles. Whatever was in there needed to be protected.

  Something Sloan said about Barry’s biometrics tripped an alarm in his head. “All of us connected to the same ID? Isn’t that dangerous?”

  “Not if I get access to their mainframe as planned. I can erase our existence when we’re home. Alright. Finished.” She packed her iPad away. “I’ve also tapped the feed to the remaining drone in the sky. Doesn’t look like they’ve noticed the other one we took down. They’re either short staffed, or security is lax.”

  “Good.” Parker’s voice rumbled over the comms. “Keep that drone away from us. Rendezvous in thirty, back at the rucksack drop. Stay frosty.”

  Parker went quiet, and Max knew he and Tony were using Barry’s fake credentials to access any areas they could. Max and Sloan slipped through a hole they created in the fence and trotted toward the admin building. No lights were on. No guards. Keeping to the shadows, they slipped up to the nearest door. An electronic keypad with biometric scanner locked the door tight.

  Sloan held her palm to the scanner. They waited, breath hostage in their throats as the blue light scanned down her palm, then back up again. The light switched to her face. A green light on the proximity reader triggered. The
distinct sound of the lock chambers releasing, snickered and clicked.

  “Suckers,” Sloan whispered.

  In they went. After canvasing the interior, checking for late night workers, Max took up a position near the windowed door, and kept an eye out. There may be no one burning the midnight oil in the office, but out there, something was going on at the warehouse.

  While he kept watch, Sloan darted around behind him, no doubt finding a computer to install her backdoor program. Once done, theoretically, they’d have access to the entire network of Syndicate secrets.

  A few minutes later, Max was getting antsy. He checked over his shoulder to source Sloan’s balaclava covered face and caught her bent over the glow of a screen, a look of pure concentration in her eyes.

  A sound outside drew his attention, and he ducked further into the shadows, gun ready. Through the window he spotted a dark silhouette moving toward the warehouse. The closer the figure got to the door, the more light cast on his face. He cursed under his breath.

  Sloan hissed, “What?”

  “It’s Barry.” Max’s grip on his weapon tightened. “We didn’t expect him to be working so late. Will an alarm go off saying his credentials are being used twice?”

  “I won’t know until I’ve finished hacking their system and I’ll need time to search…” She paused, staring in the direction Barry had gone. He was out of sight, but she probably felt his sin-signature. Max could virtually hear the thoughts ticking over in her head.

  “Sloan,” he urged, voice low. “Forget him. We get the job done. We get out.”

  “I can take care of the guards.” She shifted from foot to foot, antsy. “I can get to Barry.”

  “Finish here.”

  She dipped her head and unplugged her device from the main computer before turning it off and jogged up to him. “Done.”

  “Alright.” He gave a furtive look outside. “All clear. Let’s get back to the rendezvous.”

  Opening the door, he stepped out cautiously. Before he could stop her, Sloan was gone, rushing quietly down the dirt path toward the warehouse. He froze, watching the distance grow between them. Alarm pricked his senses. Chase her. Stay? His finger hovered over the microphone, ready to alert Parker, but he eased off at the last minute. Trust her.