Page 67 of Black and Brown

His partner limped to Grace’s side and took up position at his back as if he needed him for the support.

“Blacks are moving.”

That wasn’t Spectre. It was Ex and Meridian’s handler, Corvo.

Grace

For the first time in Grace’s history as a Raven, his heart rate skyrocketed, and chills flooded his spine as he tried to stall while waiting for backup. He was livid that he needed it for his first FPL Delta mission.

The two men repositioned for another attack, and it concerned Grace that neither looked winded or intimidated…only determined.

“Who are you?” Mirage asked after the fight came to a momentary pause.

“Someone you should pray you never see again,” the largest rumbled.

Mirage’s chest was heaving against Grace’s back, reflecting his own energy.

He didn’t know the extent of the injury to Mirage’s ankle. But Grace’s wrist was swelling. His punches were still landing and having an impact, but not as forcefully as he needed.

“We appear to be fighting for the same cause. To eliminate Woyashi as a continued threat to the world. So why are we battling each other?”

“I know of your organization,” the brute growled. “I also know your cause…and I can assure you, we are not the same.”

“Raven is an appropriate name for you. The bird is a clever yet resourceful demon. A scavenger that feeds on decaying flesh.”

Grace was glad the man couldn’t see his eyes widen beneath his hood.

How does he know we’re Ravens?

Not even the POTUS knew of them.

Grace clenched his jaw as Mirage inched closer. He had an overwhelming need to defend what he, Mirage, and the Ravens stood for, what they fought so hard for.

Most of all, he resented being called a goddamn scavenger.

“Your organization devours the dead souls of men. And claims to kill discriminately. All while ignoring the injustices and corruption within your own country under the guise of allegiance.”

Grace turned and glanced down at Mirage with narrowed eyes and a tight jaw.

Mirage nodded.

“Many Americans believe that all beings—home or abroad—are deserving of a life free of tyrants, dictators, insurgents, and rebels that slaughter and terrorize.”

Grace took a step forward, with Mirage attached, showing he was not afraid of them.

“Their deaths are justice for their victims.”

“You deem yourselves judge and executioner.” The man’s eyes flashed with the same golden hues as the sun peaking over the horizon. “That is the disease that plagues your heart, Raven.”

Anger and annoyance leaked from Mirage’s voice. “The Kenjuka Clan is responsible for countless deaths, including women and children.”

“And your organization’s solution is more death.” Their opponent glared with disdain through the slit in his mask.

“You call justice allowing them to live,” Mirage countered in a level voice, but Grace was losing his patience.

How dare these self-righteous bastards preach to them?

“We don’t serve the pretentious superiority of the United States but recognize all countries of the world. Our Order was once a league of merciless assassins such as your Ravens. But the Order under my command believes that all offenders have a right to be tried before a fair and impartial council. And if found guilty, Woyashi will not be tortured nor slain but confined within the custody of the Order of Imuma Aga Kahn.”