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“Beta truck has me behind the wheel with Brawn and Doc up front. The three of us are team Beta-One. Come on, men. You know what to do.”
I get up with a pat of Cora’s knee and stand near Sarge. So does Brawn. All three of us say, “We’re team Beta-One!” Sarge’s voice overpowers mine and Brawn’s. The man has got some lungs on him.
Sarge finds Cora with his gaze. “Hidden in back will be Stealth, Cora, and Grim, team Beta-Two.”
Cora moves to stand near Grim, and he gathers her close.
Stealth approaches them but, Rev speaks up. “No closer than that, son, unless you want off this rock.”
Grim’s covered in his usual layers, but his face is bare. Stealth is in no real danger unless he tries to kiss Grim, but Rev is setting a precedent of caution.
Stealth stops in his tracks a yard away from Grim and Cora. His eyes go wide. “Shit. That’s gonna be hard to remember.”
“Grim,” Sarge says. “The rest of us are learning more control of our Gifts. How about you? You think you can control yours to focus the death touch on the enemy and keep friendlies safe?”
“It is too dangerous to risk it,” Grim says. “The consequences of my failure are too severe.”
“Try anyway,” Sarge says. “I don’t want Stealth forgetting in the heat of battle that he can’t touch you. If you go down, my man will try to help you, and I need for that not to be a death sentence for him. Whatever you need to do, do.”
“It is impossible,” Grim argues, but Steel talks over him.
“We’ve got some old hens that aren’t laying anymore,” he tells Grim. “You could practice on them.”
“Good,” Sarge says. “That’s settled.” Grim argues in Ukrainian, loudly, but Sarge moves on, ignoring him.
“Stealth and Grim.” Sarge pins both men in turn with his gaze. “You two are Cora’s guards. Stealth will keep her cloakedat alltimes,and anyone not on our teams who gets within ten yards of her gets terminated, no questions asked. Got it?”
Stealth says, “Roger that, Sarge.” When his lips twist into a deadly sneer, I know that between him and Grim, Cora will be safe.
But Grim’s jaw is set with defiance. He’s worried about Sarge’s order to work on his Gift.
I break from my team—Beta-One—and sidle up to Grim as close as I dare. “Hey, man,” I say in his ear. “I’ve got you. We’ll practice tomorrow, just like when we brought those birds back to life.” I know Grim well enough by now to assume he’ll take care of covering every millimeter of his skin before battle, but Stealth won’t be used to keeping himself safe around Grim. So, I add, “Plus, when we get to Baton Rouge, I’ll make sure Stealth is covered and taped up just like when I have to treat your injuries.”
Grim’s stare is sharp as glass, but he nods. “Da.Okay.” He huffs a furious breath out his nose. “Thanks.”
“Get a good look at your teams, gentlemen,” Sarge says. “You go into The Big Easy with these people. You leave with them. Unless I give orders to the contrary, you are joined at the hip. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir,” we all say while Sarge makes eye contact with everyone in turn.
Returning his gaze to the map, he says, “For both trucks, front seat teams will barge in loud and engage the enemy, taking attention off the back seat teams, who will do the searching as quietly as possible. We take no prisoners. This enemy is presumed heavily armed and extremely dangerous. You get a shot, you take it. Understood?”
Another round of, “Yes, sirs,” fills the room.
“Good. Now take your seats, gentlemen. Here’s how we go in.”
He fills up the next half hour by breaking down each team’s job. Some of us, my team included, are going to engage Raptor and his cronies, and the others will search for Jud.
“Once we locate Jud,” Sarge says, “We evacuate the way we came in.” He takes up an at-ease stance in the middle of the room, and his tough-as-nails face softens.
It’s clear he’s shifting gears from strategizing to a more personal address to everyone. I lean forward with elbows on my knees.
“There aren’t a whole lot of people left in this world. I don’t relish the thought of reducing that number further. And I know the same goes for every man—” He nods in Cora’s direction. “And woman in this room. But, gentlemen, we arenotgoing into New Orleans to pussyfoot around. We’re going to kick derelict ass. We have one objective, and that’s to retrieve our P.O.W. We don’t leave without Jud, and we take no prisoners.”
“Damn right,” I say, and the others voice their agreement.
Sarge grins at me, and I have to resist the urge to preen like teacher’s pet.
“There are twenty-six of these assholes that we know about,” he goes on. “And there are thirteen of us. That’s two-to one odds, and that’s before you consider what kinds of Gifts they’ve got in store for us. But we got Gifts too, and we know how to use ’em.”
