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As we exited Interstate 95, Drew chirped in our ears. His voice was clear, though it had a bit of an electronic bent to it.
“We’ve got you on video from ten thousand feet.”
I reached up, grabbed a small button in the wire leading to my right earbud. “That drone have a weapons system?”
“Negative. Comms and surveillance only. You’re on your own.”
“We’re about a mile out,” Jack Shea said from the driver’s seat.
He blew through a red light. An old Cadillac almost t-boned us on my side. The driver honked and gave me the double bird.
I almost pissed myself. Like a true hero.
“Ease up there, Jack. We won’t do any good if you get us crushed like a tin can before we even get there.”
“Got it. My bad.”
I looked at Manning. What little color her face had before was completely gone.
She’s going to die... and it’s going to be your fault.
I closed my eyes, thought, Not now, Sammy. Please not now.
Why do you do this to us?
Even beyond the terrible sensation of having the beautiful, kind, and extremely dead Sammy in my mind, I was getting really tired of the broken record of insults I kept hearing. If she was trying to hammer home her point, then it was really working.
The inner voices of commuters on the highway flashed by as we zoomed down the road. Now that we’d entered the city and slowed down, the barrage proved more cumbersome. I had to focus a little more to keep from hearing the thoughts of every Tom, Dick and Harry in Washington.
The morning was young, fortunately, so I still had a lot of energy reserves.
“The riots are in full swing,” Drew said. “Hang a right on Mason up ahead and find a place to park. The final two blocks are packed with civilians. You’ll have to go on foot.”
“Are you shitting me?” Tate asked. “This is insane.”
I had to agree with Captain Grumpy on that one.
We were all wearing black cargo pants, body armor, black tactical vests, and black ski masks. On top of that, we had big-ass guns and bad attitudes. People who saw us running down the street were either going to flee like cockroaches when the lights turned on, or they would attack us.
“If the rioters catch you in the vehicle, you could be in trouble. Better to go on foot. It’s only two blocks, tough guy.”
Tate continued to grumble.
I picked up my rifle.
Popped the mag to make sure it was full.
Checked the chamber.
Peeked through the iron sights.
Ready to rock.
I’d done all of this before we’d left, of course, but I always did a last-minute inspection of my equipment before heading into hostile territory. It helped calm my nerves.
Except it didn’t really help that time.
Smith’s men were violent psychopaths who didn’t care about the consequences of their actions. They’d murdered an entire town of peaceful people without batting an eye. Hell, we didn’t even know why they’d done it. They’d never made any demands, never contacted anyone to negotiate a money exchange or for a surrender.
Nothing.
That made it all the more frightening. We were heading into a shitstorm and we didn’t even know what our enemy wanted. Smith was obviously butt hurt over President Thomas shutting down his operation, but he’d taken things to a crazy level that didn’t fit the perceived crime.
On top of that, I was surrounded by people who didn’t believe in the psychic abilities they might encounter in the next five minutes. If they thought what I could do was farfetched, I could only hope that we wouldn’t run into another Murdock type.
That was another point that had me on edge.
Where were the rest of Smith’s telepaths?
We’d been told that he had several working for him.
Murdock was dead. We knew he’d gone after a handful of our ilk before I’d given his head a new hole, but we didn’t know if he’d killed them or not. There could be half a dozen telepaths working for Smith just then.
If that was the case, then we were all in deep shit.
Shea pulled into a parking lot with an attendant standing by the entrance.
The man waved at us as we eased to a stop beside him. “We’re closed. The city is losing its damned mind.”
“We won’t be long.” Shea flashed his DHS badge. “You might want to go home. Things are going bad.”
“DHS? Oh, damn. Double damn.” The man’s eyes widened at the sight of the badge. “I’ll leave the gate open so you can get out.”
“Much appreciated.” Shea hit the gas and rocketed us into the parking lot.
He eased off the accelerator as we approached the far end, then swung us around and parked across two spots. The front end of the SUV pointed at the exit for a quick escape.
I liked Shea. He knew what he was doing.
“Check your weapons,” Tate said.
Everyone complied but me. I’d already done it.
‘Cause I was awesome.
Manning’s fingers shook as she worked the action on her rifle. Just watching her tense, jerky motions made me anxious. Her aim would be a complete shit show if she didn’t get herself under control.
“Are you going to be okay?” I asked.
“I’m good.” She slammed the action home, looked at me. “I always get like this before a sting.”
“No time to turn back now.” Tate pushed the button under his earbud. “What’s the clearest route to the building?”
That was why we’d brought Tate into the fold. Sure, the man was an asshole of epic proportions, but he knew how to run an op. Nelson had told him he would be in charge of the team while we were in the field.
I’d agreed with that decision wholeheartedly. Not that my opinion mattered much, but I felt more important if I put my two cents in.
My missions in the sandbox had been pretty hardcore, but they paled in comparison with the kind of action Tate had seen. If anyone could command a small contingent of alpha males, it was Tate.
The only stipulation Nelson had given him was that he had to listen to any intel I provided on the fly. Tate, obviously, didn’t believe that I would provide anything other than my stunning good looks to the team.
He would come around soon.
“Head north to the end of the block, then cut through the parking garage,” Drew said. “It’s hard to tell how many rioters are in there, but foot traffic in and out is fairly light. The apartment building is on the side of the garage.”
“Affirmative.” Tate turned to each of us one at a time. “You all know what you’re doing. Follow my lead and we’ll get through this.” He glared at Manning. “Except you. If you fuck this up and get one of us killed, I’ll take you out myself.”
Manning returned his glare, but said nothing.
He kept his attention on her. “When we get to the parking garage, you’re going to split off and move to the top of the structure. Get a line of sight on the apartment building and report in when you’re set. Don’t fuck around. We don’t need to be standing in the middle of the street with our dicks in our hands while you take a coffee break.”
“Got it.”
“As for you,” Tate said, glancing at me. “Stay in the middle of the group and keep your mouth shut. If I hear you talk about any stupid mindreading shit in the middle of this, I’m going beat you within an inch of your life. All of that size you seem so proud of is going to slow you, and us, down. They saddled me with you, so stay the hell out of the way.”
I struggled to hold in a laugh.
“You noticed all the hard work I’ve been putting in?” I looked down at my left bicep and flexed it. “That’s really sweet of you, but I’m just getting out of a relationship and I’m not sure I want to jump into something else right away.”
Manning snickered beside me.
The anger in Tate’s eyes would have made a weaker man cry.
It made me smile.
I had a feeling he and I were going to trade fisticuffs at some point in the near future. I was looking forward to it.
“Better get a move on,” Drew said. “Things are getting crazy down there. They’ve just set a church on fire.”
“Nothing says peaceful protest like burning down your place of worship.” Briggs gave us all a predatory grin. “Time to earn our paychecks, gents. And lady.”
“Stay with the car, Shea.” Tate opened his door. “We won’t be long.”
“Affirmative.” Shea peered in all the mirrors in quick succession. “Don’t know how long I can sit here.”
“Masks.” Tate pulled his down.
The rest of us followed suit.
Not gonna lie—we looked totally badass.
We exited the vehicle.
Down the street, right before the entrance to the parking garage, a crowd of people had formed in the middle of the road. Most of them were just standing there, shouting.
A few threw rocks and bottles.
Several others were armed.
Tate gestured toward the crowd with his left hand. “Move.”