Chapter Text
When you're surrounded by a world of constant lies, manipulation, and deceit, that dark energy is bound to seep into you eventually.
Purple and blue neon popped with yellow and orange, striking long shadows and blurred silhouettes. Music thudded through the roof, harmonizing with the sound of singing voices and laughter. People danced across patterned, platformed floors that glowed yellow and green beneath flashing black lights.
But, even then, even through all the distractions, his eyes were on one man.
The man stood a floor above the dance floor. It was open, overlooking the dancers and the bars that were shuttling drinks back and forth across the various platforms.
He was surrounded by other men—as was the floor below them—each in dark suits and sunglasses. They attempted to keep watch on the entire dance floor, their gazes roving across the building before looking back to the only woman that was there with the man. Her eyes were cold as she stood just behind the man, clinking a glass of diluted whiskey that was mostly ice.
The men would be only a small wrinkle he could get around easily. The woman, on the other hand, would be a problem. But he’d get around them. He’d get around each and every one of them.
The woman’s unblinking stare passed right over him; the shadows surrounding him gently cradling him in their depths.
But his eyes glowed amber in the black light and they were still trained on the man above him.
He took a slow step from the darkness, the yellow in his eyes flashing in time with the lights as he stalked through the distractions—people—surrounding him. He moved like a predator; nearly like a wild animal prowling after its prey.
“Watch your six.”
He didn’t bother to pause as he nodded and ducked into the crowd. He could feel them moving behind him as he slipped further into the crowd with a sip of his drink. Checking over his shoulder only once, he swung from the main floor and toward the long bar that spanned from wall to wall. He paused in his stride, letting one of the men behind him brush against his shoulder and letting his fingers dip into the man’s pocket. A smirk worked to his face as he pulled a golden token and a lighter from the pocket. He flipped the token over his knuckles before he ducked into a row of booths; barely escaping the man’s gaze as he turned back toward him.
Glancing side to side, he stepped quickly through the booths before he caught sight of a target.
She was running her finger in circles across the rim of her glass, her chin rested upon the fist of her other hand as she stared into the distance with a faded smile.
A smirk curled to his lips before it turned into a warm smile as he made eye contact with one of the occupants there. He looked her over, letting his gaze linger over her form before he slipped to her side.
“Hola, hermosa,” he crooned with a smile, his teeth flashing in the darkness as he gestured toward her with his drink, “May I?”
The woman smiled back, her grin glinting in the glowing light that emanated from the purple bands on her wrist. She straightened as she brushed curls from her face and tucked them behind her ear, “Yes, please.”
The smile on his face widened slightly as he took a seat beside her, carefully positioning himself to keep an eye on the man on the balcony above them.
“Where you from, princesa?” he asked, casting her a quick glance as he sipped his drink.
He picked her apart in a mere matter of seconds. Those words at just the right tone and pitch with the perfect amount of rasp was just enough to get her talking and enough to get him a pass from the conversation. He could tune most of it out and still keep it alive; still keep himself concealed in the crowd. His gaze flicked back and forth from the woman to the balcony over the bar.
He had a better angle now, a better look at the man above them.
Casimiro Dragovic.
He had blond hair, slicked back just enough to show off his sharp face as he swirled a drink in one hand and leaned heavily on a cane with the other. The top of the cane glinted in the light, the neon flashed against the wings of a silver dragon roosting upon a globe—its claws piercing into the Earth and fracturing it.
“What about you?” she asked, taking a quick breath after the flurry of words she’d spouted off and puffing a curl from her face, “Where you from?”
“Frigiliana.”
“Where’s that?”
The corners of his lips lifted to a small smile, glancing down at the few remaining ice cubes, “Spain.”
“And your name?”
Sitting up straight, he cocked his head to the side as his smile curled to a smirk, “That really matter, princesa?”
“Depends.” She blushed lightly, hiding behind her glass, “What are your plans for the rest of the night?”
He clicked his tongue, letting his eyes drift over her before they flicked up to hers.
“Gonzalez. Daniel Gonzalez.”
The woman bit her lip with a smile, glancing over at who he assumed were her friends were dancing. Danny smiled back, leaning toward her and setting his elbow on the table, and hiding his face in his hand as a man in a suit and sunglasses passed behind them.
His eyes narrowed slightly as he watched the man’s back before he turned back to the woman, “¿Quieres bailar?”
“What?”
“Wanna dance?”
“Hell, yeah.”
“Stay on point, Nighthawk. We don’t have time for this.”
Danny rolled his eyes, swinging out of the booth and holding his hand out to the woman with a soft grin. She returned it an instant, her eyes dilating as she slid across her seat and took his hand.
— His fingers slipped as he held out his hand to her. The wind whipped through his hair, the night’s rain ripping into him like daggers as he nearly lost his grip. —
— And the girl reached for him, her fingers brushing against his. —
He hid a wince as he set down his drink and followed her onto the dance floor.
“Dragovic is on the move. Will you please get your ass off the dance floor? I’m begging you.”
Danny scoffed, glancing over his shoulder to catch the blue stare of the man across from him before sneaking a look back at Dragovic.
He was indeed moving.
And he was leaving a perfect opening for Danny to slip into.
Perfect.
He hummed a breath, letting the woman lead him onto the dance floor. He let her take him to the middle of her friends, let her swing him through the neon before he slipped into the shadows without a second thought. She didn’t even notice as her friends gathered around her and the music continued to beat through the building.
And Danny’s gaze returned to Dragovic.
The man limped across the balcony surrounded by his entourage.
“Outbreak, where’s he heading?” he asked, briefly pressing his finger to his earpiece before hiding it with a strand of hair.
“Not sure,” Turner replied, leapfrogging through the shadows at the opposite edge of the room, “I’m working on it.”
“Stay low,” Danny said, quickly sweeping through the crowd and off the dance floor again. He took cover beside a waitress, taking a beer bottle from her tray when she wasn’t looking before continuing to duck through the dragging shadows, “I’m going high. Don’t lose him.”
“He’s got his muscle with him.”
“I see that,” he hummed, turning toward the stairs and glancing upward as Dragovic and his men slipped from the balcony and past a pair of bouncers; disappearing into the backrooms of the club. “You got eyes?”
“Negative.”
Danny frowned, his eyes trained on the rest of Dragovic’s guards as they followed him like lost puppies and he took a quick chug of his newly acquired drink.
“Plan?”
He huffed a breath, watching the last of the men step past the bouncers and into the darkness before he spun out of his cover and up the stairs, “Make sure no one comes out after me.”
“That’s not a plan.”
Danny clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes slightly as he glanced over his shoulder and stepped toward the bouncers, “You don’t need to know all the details.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“We’ll agree to disagree.”
“No,” he sighed dramatically as Danny hopped over red velvet rope held by gold stanchions and caught the bouncer’s attention, “We won’t.”
He nodded to them, pulling the golden VIP token from his pocket and gesturing to the VIP bar atop the balcony. They relaxed back slightly, parting to either side of the open arch to the backrooms and giving Danny a look straight down the hall. Allowing a quick glance, he made sure there were no witnesses down the hall as he stuffed the token back in his pocket and walked past the bouncers.
He took them in quickly, noting their size as they towered over him before his eyes were drawn to the dark ink that painted their inner arm.
A dragon, clutching the world in its claws.
That made things much, much easier.
A scoff puffed through his nose as a sneered smile curled to his lips and he tossed his now empty beer bottle to himself, catching it by the neck. The instant Danny passed them, he turned on his heel and cracked the bottle against the railing. Shards of glass sprinkled to the floor but left a row of sharp teeth around the heel.
The bouncers weren’t quick enough to react as he turned on them; stabbing one of the men in the gut before latching onto his neck and using him as leverage to swing a kick at the other man. The second was sent flying as Danny adjusted his grip on the first and threw him over the shoulder. He stepped after the second as he righted himself and the first groaned on the floor.
His fingers clawed at the man’s hair, tangling in it before he launched the man’s head toward the railing. A grunt escaped Danny’s lips as he swung the man’s head against the metal rail once…twice…three times—just for luck—before he released him and the man crumpled to the floor.
Danny straightened himself, smoothing back his hair and sucking in a breath before turning away from the bouncers and down the hall that Dragovic has disappeared into.
“Very inconspicuous.”
“I told you to watch,” Danny hummed, checking over his shoulder as he walked down the hall, “Not to judge.”
“Yeah, that was before you started acting like a douche.”
“Vete a la mierda.”
The hall was dark, lit only by scattered black lights that flickered with every step that Danny took. Yellow eyes flicked across the hall, darting back and forth between the doors that lined the walls. Only a few of them were open but the ones that were revealed rooms that were even darker than the hall but, even through the darkness, he could make out the shapes of blacked-out windows.
Perfect places for quick exits.
Danny nodded to himself, mentally routing out two separate exits should he need them. One went out the windows, though he wasn’t sure what was waiting for him outside them…or how the hell he was gonna get down to street level. He supposed that would be plan b of the two. The other he went straight back out the club the way he came. He’d use the people in the club as distractions and cover.
Then again, he wasn’t dealing with people that would care about firing into an innocent crowd.
Perhaps plan 'a' should be plan 'b' and plan 'b' should be…
Eh. He’d burn that bridge when he got to it.
But now? Now, he was listening to the voices and music that were echoing further in the darkness. Danny nodded to himself, tugging off his jacket and tossing it over his shoulder before reaching for the pistol he kept hidden in an underarm holster. Slipping the cold metal into his hands, he cracked back the slide to check the chamber before flicking off the safety as his eyes circled into darkened tunnel vision.
— The girl winced out of the way, closing her eyes as bullets glanced off the truck. —
— “Give me your hand!” he yelled over the wind, “I’ve got you, I promise!” —
A growl rumbled through his chest as he neared the end of the hall.
All he needed was one shot. One shot and it ended everything.
He could finally move on.
“Whoa.” Turner’s voice echoed through his ear, “Hey, Khatri’s back on the floor. Circling back around toward you.”
“Shit.”
“Whatever you’re gonna do, do it fast and get the hell out of there.”
If Khatri was circling back around, it was only a matter of time before she discovered the pair of bodies he’d left in his wake.
He really was out of time.
Danny nodded, stalking down the hall as the sound of music and voices grew. He cocked his head to the side, lowering his weapon slightly as he turned the corner. Flashing lights glimmered beneath a pair of closed doors, bright and brilliant. A frown managed its way to his face as he moved closer and he tucked his weapon behind his back before reaching for the doors.
Pulling one open, Danny took a slow move inside. He winced as gleaming spotlights swung around the room, highlighting silhouettes as they moved on a black-and-white dance floor.
“Nighthawk? What’s happening?”
“I’m in a VIP club,” Danny said lowly, stowing his weapon back in its holster as he prowled through the shadows.
A club within the club.
It was completely night and day from the outer club. Colorful lights and bracelets had been replaced by black and white, it was like walking straight into a film noir.
He swallowed thickly, letting his eyes run over the occupants and quickly stepping away from the doors.
Slithering into the crowd, his gaze swept through the crowd before they locked onto their target.
Dragovic.
He was in the center of the room, relaxing back on a white velvet couch in a roped-off lounge surrounded by the dance floor. He didn’t even know…Dragovic wasn’t even aware that he was there.
Danny’s jaw clenched, his grip returning to his pistol as he stepped quickly through the crowd.
— “Trust me! I promise, I’ll get you outta this! Please!” —
He twitched slightly, his eyes narrowing as he stayed on target and strode through the crowd. He barely even noticed as Khatri burst through the doors behind him but he noticed Dragovic straighten, his face dropping as dark eyes met hers. Dragovic cocked his head to the side, studying her for a moment before they snapped immediately to Danny.
Danny froze in his stride, still covered by the crowd as their gazes met. A smile worked to Dragovic’s face as he slowly stood, leaning heavily on his cane and the rest of his men began to panic as Khatri started yelling orders.
Dragovic lifted a brow, staring at Danny before letting his eyes wander the crowd as a smirk curled to his lips.
Fuck.
Dragovic had no reservations about firing into a crowd of innocent people but Danny?
He had minor issues with it.
Still, his finger slipped to the trigger and he quickly raised the weapon toward the man.
If he could get a shot off, it didn’t matter.
If he could get a single shot right through the man’s heart, it would all be over.
So he pulled the trigger.
A shot rang through the room, startling the people surrounding him and sending them into a panic, even as Danny was tackled and his bullet went blowing past Dragovic’s ear.
The man hardly even flinched as a devilish grin stretched across his lips.
“No!” Danny snarled, shoving the guard away from him and sending a pair of shots into the man’s chest. He worked his way to his feet, pointing the pistol at the last place Dragovic had been before he was swarmed by guards.
“What? What happened?”
Danny growled to himself, glaring at Dragovic as he was escorted out of the room before he turned on his heel toward the exit. He froze as he did, wincing at the group of people that were now surrounding him.
“You got caught, didn’t you?” he sighed, “You’re an idiot—”
“Daeva.” Danny managed a mischievous smile, relaxing back and letting his pistol fall to his side.
The woman looked up at him with a sigh, folding muscular arms over her chest, “Chhaaya.”
“Typical. Security is mobilizing out here. Get out of there.”
“How’s it going?” he asked, ignoring Turner completely, “It’s been a while, culturista.”
Daeva scoffed, cracking her knuckles as she nodded to the men flanking her, “Not long enough.”
“Ouch.” Danny pouted, pressing a palm to his heart, “Lástimas mi corazón.” You hurt my heart.
“If you were a real man, you wouldn’t have one.”
He blinked with a cackle before shaking his head with a click of his tongue as his face fell, “Ahora solo estás tratando de herir mis sentimientos.” Now you’re just trying to hurt my feelings.
“Stop flirting with Khatri and get the hell out of there.”
Danny rolled his eyes, letting them glide over the four men and Daeva as they squared up to him, “I’m not flirting this time.”
Five to one…not the best odds but certainly not the worst he’d ever had.
A smirk spread across his lips as he glanced between them once more before launching himself toward Daeva. She laughed, barely flinching out of the way as he threw a volley of punches at her. She blocked them like he’d barely hit her, the gritted grin on her face never leaving as she countered and he ducked out of her way.
Stay low. Stay fast. And take out the others.
Danny nodded to himself, avoiding a hit from her and lifting his pistol at one of the men that were trying to join in.
He downed him instantly before turning back to Daeva. He went low this time, sweeping out a leg to try and catch her knee only for her to step out of his way. But he used that to his advantage. Staying low, he swept under another punch from her and fired off two more shots not giving the two bodies that fell to the floor or the way the slide cocked back on his weapon a second glance before he straightened himself.
Chucking the spent pistol at the last man, he turned his full attention back to Daeva. She didn’t wait for him to square up to her, charging at him before he could react. A grunt escaped Danny’s lips as he took a hit to his chest before backing away with a gasped breath.
“Maybe we are flirting,” he chuckled, noting the glare that crossed her features as her nose crinkled in disgust.
“No.” Daeva scowled at him, her brows knitting together as he winked at her, “We are not.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, expertly retreating as she threw herself at him again. He let a punch fly past his head before he grabbed onto her wrist and used her momentum against her, “This feels like flirting to me.”
He winced lightly as he threw her over his shoulder and into the nearest table. She yelped, landing on the wooden table in a heap as Danny backed away from her.
“Fun as always, princesa.”
“Main tumhen antatah maar daaloonga, Chhaaya!” she yelled as he fell back into the crowd that was still trying to escape.
Danny gave her a mock salute before slipping into the panicked people that surrounded him and his gaze picked up more movement.
Dragovic was still watching him from the corner, despite the guards that were urging him to run. He leaned on his cane, staring at him with a half-amused look before Danny raised two fingers at him. He pointed them at Dragovic like he had with the pistol, pretending to fire with a quick pop from his lips before he fell in time with the crowd. Dragovic raised a brow with a curt nod before he was whisked away by his guards.
A glare worked through Danny as he sunk further into the crowd, narrowly sneaking past more security as they came running toward the room and he pressed his fingers to his ear, “Coming to you.”
“Did you get him?”
Danny didn’t bother to answer as he moved with the crowd, glancing at one of his exits before he shook his head and continued to move with the people surrounding him. He’d call less attention to himself if he moved with them instead of breaking off. All he had to do was make it to Turner.
“Gonna take that as a no.”
“Be ready to move,” Danny said, taking a tentative sigh of relief as he made it back into the main club, “Where are you?”
“I stayed low. I’m on the south side. What’s the plan?”
Slipping from the back rooms Danny stepped from the crowd, his gaze flicked over the rest of the club which was still going to town like there weren’t three…possibly four dead bodies in the building. He sucked a breath through his teeth, searching for Turner as fast as he could amongst the dozens of people in the building before he caught motion in his peripheral.
Danny ducked, narrowly avoiding an incoming fist as a pair of Dragovic’s guards lunged at him. Staying low again, he kicked out one of the men’s knees with a sharp snap before he tackled the other one to the ground. He only needed a pair of punches to the man’s nose to knock him out completely before he stood and glanced over his shoulder.
More of Dragovic’s guards were heading down the hall after him.
He sighed, shaking his head before he vaulted over the railing; bypassing the stairs completely as he fell to the dance floor. The party was still in full swing there, the music showing no signs of stopping even as more security filed through the room but it was the guards at the exit that caught his attention.
He was going to have to come up with something in order to get past them.
Licking his lips nervously, he stood slowly before catching a glimpse of Turner across the room. Turner caught the look in his eye for only a moment before an overdramatic groan worked through his entire body and Danny quickly jogged across the room toward him.
“Oh my god,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “You don’t have a plan, do you?”
Danny sighed, shaking his head before he paused as the beat thudding through the building changed into one he recognized.
Perfect.
A mischievous grin made its way to his face as he reached down to grab Turner’s hand, “I do now.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Wait!” Turner yelled at him as he tugged him onto the dance floor before whipping him around, “What the hell are you—”
“Samba!”
“No!”
“Trust me!”
“Absolutely not!”
Danny grinned, his grip on Turner tightening as he swung him around to clear the dance floor; much to the crowd’s delight and catching the guards’ attention. The grin on his face grew as he twirled Turner across the floor, despite all the man’s protests.
Surprisingly, he was light on his feet.
His hand landed on Turner’s hip, quickly guiding him across the floor as the crowd parted for them before he spun him one way, then the other.
“Move those hips, amigo!”
“I hate you,” Turner hissed, barely able to get out the words as Danny spun him toward him and then quickly away.
“¡Vamos!” he whooped with a laugh, “¡Vamonos!”
“Gonzalez!” he yelled over the music, “I’m gonna kill you!”
“Go with the flow, my friend,” Danny crooned, spinning him again before using him as leverage to kick one of the guards away from them. He turned again, whirling Turner around just enough that he could throw a punch at another one of the guards before Danny pulled him back into the dance. Turner opened his mouth to protest again before he was spun once more and dipped nearly to the floor. Danny held fast to him, a smirk on his face, “Tienes ojos hermosos.”
“I hate you.” Turner deadpanned, shaking his head as Danny helped him back to his feet and the song ended.
“Come on,” Danny said, ignoring him yet again as the crowd began to converge on them, trapping the guards in their ranks.
A wicked smirk slipped to his lips as they slithered through the crowd and out the door.
A single, flying punch was all they needed to get past the only one of Dragovic’s guards that was stationed at the entrance before they ducked through a pair of bouncers and into the streets of Rio de Janeiro.
“Car!” Danny yelled, wincing at the blaring horns that went off around them as he darted into traffic, “Get the car!”
Turner whipped around, flying through rows of cars as Danny spun back toward the street in a desperate attempt to find Dragovic.
Which wasn’t as difficult as he had anticipated.
Especially not as a row of white SUVs went blowing through traffic, cutting off the road as a single red car when blasting past them. Danny tracked it down the road, watching it carefully as it sped down the road and left its guard vehicles in its wake. His gaze tracked down the road as the car weaved back and forth down the block before it turned down the corner and disappeared in a mess of tail lights.
A growl warped through his throat as he stared at the spot before and an engine roared to his side.
“Get in,” Turner called, wincing as Danny threw open the door and jumped inside their darkened Land Rover, “Where we headed?”
“That way.” Danny pointed, holding on for dear life as Turner floored it and sent them careening through traffic. He let out a grunt, hanging onto his seat as their car went skirting between a pair of Dragovic’s entourage, “Turn right at the end of this—Shit!”
The two ducked as a flurry of bullets cracked through the back windshield, whizzing through the headrests and nearly clipping Turner’s ear as they veered down another street.
“Gonzalez!”
“Drive,” Danny spat, kicking open the glove box and snatching out a pistol, “I got them. Just don’t lose him.”
Turner winced with a nod, glancing in the side mirror before it was shattered by another wayward bullet, “Got it. Just get ‘em off of us.”
Danny sucked a breath, scrambling through the back of the vehicle before kicking out what was left of the back windshield.
There was a fleet of white SUVs following behind them, some swerving through traffic to provide others a clear shot while the rest continued to blast toward them. Danny winced slightly, glaring at one of the vehicles as it tried to bash into the rear quarter of their car.
He fired without thinking, letting off a rally of shots at their tires before taking cover below the tailgate as the car went flying. It drifted in front of another car, taking it out and leaving a burst of smoke before the rest of the fleet came shooting toward them.
They were unshakable.
No matter how quickly Turner darted between other cars and through stop lights, no matter how many rounds Danny tried to press into them, they still kept coming.
Danny sucked a hiss, resting his arms against the broken windscreen and continuing to fire as Dragovic’s guards chased after them. The muzzle flash bounced off the buildings they sped past, the gunshots harmonized with squealing tires in a wild cacophony before sirens and more flashing lights began to join in.
“Ay!” Danny yelled with a quick, shrill whistle to Turner, “La pasma!”
“Great.” Turner rolled his eyes, glaring at what was left of his rearview mirror, “Will you please get them off us?”
“I’m working on it!”
“Are you aiming for their tires or their heads?” he asked, glaring back at him as Danny scrambled over the backseats and clambered into the passenger seat.
“Both.”
“Aim better,” Turner said through gritted teeth as he cranked the wheel to the side, “You’re a horrible shot.”
“Shut up—” Danny rolled his eyes before he was thrown across the seat and nearly smashed his head into the window as Turner turned down another street to keep up with Dragovic’s car, “Ay! Will you watch where you’re driving?”
Turner scoffed, flicking his gaze toward Danny as he popped the door open and glanced behind them, “Only if you watch where you’re shooting.”
Danny clicked his tongue, snapping the lever to his seat and pushing it back as far as he could before he wrapped his hand around the seatbelt, “J-hook. Now.”
Before the words entirely left his mouth, Turner sent the can swinging through an open path of the road and Danny nearly dove from his seat. His grip on the seat belt tightened as he flung open the door and held his weapon out in front of him; training it on two of the cars that were coming up on their tail.
He fired a trio of shots, one aimed at the driver of one of the SUVs chasing after them before turning the other two at the tires of the other.
Only one hit its mark, sending a puff of dust and air into the sky before the SUV went rolling into another car and Turner swerved. Danny nearly went flying as he let go of his weapon to latch onto the seat belt as though his life depended on it.
Probably because it did.
He grunted, watching as his weapon went flying into the road, cartwheeling over itself before it was hit by an oncoming car.
“Turner!” he snapped, pulling himself back into the car and slamming the door shut as another hail of bullets reacted to his most recent endeavor, “What the fuck are you doing?”
“They’re shooting at me!” Turner exclaimed with a grimace as Danny glared at him, “What do you want me to do?”
“Not that!” he spat, swinging around to fumble for another pistol in the back seat, “Tu conducción es casi tan mala como tu baile.” Your driving is almost as bad as your dancing.
“I’m gonna kill you.”
Danny managed a laugh through gritted teeth as he checked the chamber of the SIG he found in the back seat before he stuck his head out the window, “Get in line.”
He emptied the clip, taking three shots per vehicle and downing four of the cars following them before he swung back into the car in a huff. Danny knocked his head against the headrest, forcing a breath as he shoved a curl from his face and frowned as a laugh came from Turner.
“What?”
“I knew that would work.”
Danny’s frown deepened as Turner cranked the wheel and sent them through an alley in an attempt to lose the train of cars behind them, “You knew what would work?”
He shrugged, glancing at him with a flick of ocean-blue eyes, “You’re a better shot when you’re pissed off.”
Danny scoffed, shaking his head as Turner pulled back onto the main street before he yelped.
An SUV went slamming into the rear half of their car, sending them flying through the street before the wheels on Turner’s side of the car caught on the curb. Danny blinked, slowly straightening as glass crinkled from the windows and he licked his lips with a slow hiss.
“Turner?” Danny seethed, reaching into the console and pulling out another magazine. He ejected the spent one with a click of his tongue before he snapped the new one in and cracked the slide.
“Yeah?” he asked, craning his neck till it popped and he glanced at him.
“Ahora estoy muy enojado.” Now, I’m really pissed.
Turner scoffed, cracking their car into reverse and making the tires screech as he corrected them on the street, “So am I.”
Danny smirked, his gaze flying to the driver of the car that hit them as Turner narrowly avoided another hit. With a click of his tongue, he aimed at the driver through their windshield and fired off two rounds. The man was killed in an instant as Turner continued to back out of the way before pumping the brake and slamming the car into drive. He cranked the wheel to the side, tilting his head to glare out of two bullet holes as he took off down the street again.
“Eyes on Dragovic,” Turner hummed, flinching at the sound of blaring horns that cut over the top of gunshots.
An accidental smirk curled to Danny’s lips as his eyes flicked up the street to track the fading red vehicle, “Stay on him.”
He nodded, rolling his shoulders as he sat low in his seat, “As long as you get these assholes off our tail.”
It took more energy than he’d admit to tear his gaze away from Dragovic’s car and turn around to face the army coming down upon them.
Dragovic was too important.
No.
It was too important to take him down.
It was too important to kill him before he caused any more damage.
Kill him.
And he had to do it himself.
He had to.
But, Danny had to be alive in order to do that.
He growled lightly, glancing over his shoulder at the wall of cars behind him before turning back around and catching sight of his way out.
“Cut that thing off,” Danny said, pointing to the truck that was pulling into the intersection in front of them.
“Not a good idea—”
“Just do it.” Danny rolled his eyes, pulling up his pistol and following the truck’s tires as Turner whipped in front of it as it blasted its horn and he let off a pair of shots.
They pierced holes in the front tires, adding even more chaos as the truck slammed on the brakes and began to jackknife. It came to a halt in the center of the intersection, cutting off the fleet of guards that were on the tail.
“And,” Danny sang, relaxing back in his seat with a puffed sigh, “Done. Sencillo.”
Turner scoffed, shaking his head slightly as he relaxed back before he frowned and turned a glare on Danny, “We’re never going to talk about this again.”
He blinked, raising a brow as he rolled his head to look at Turner, “¿Qué?”
He didn’t answer, seeming to ignore Danny as he stared into the road.
Now…What was he talking about? What would get him so worked up, he didn’t even wanna talk about…Oh…
Oh…
“Ah.” A wicked grin curled to his lips, “That’s fine with me. I don’t need your terrible dancing to tarnish my reputation.”
Turner’s jaw clenched as he forced a breath and slowly turned to him, “I hate you.”
He chuckled, his gaze flicking from Turner to Dragovic’s car before his smile faded as the tail lights disappeared around another corner.
— The frigid wind ripped through her hair as she looked up at him. Her eyes shimmering in the pale light of the moon as she reached for his hand. —
Danny’s lips turned to a gritted snarl as he glanced down at the pistol in his hand, “Let’s finish this.”
A screech of metal howled through the night as their car tore through a closing fence in a burst of sparks. Dragovic’s car had disappeared down the dimly lit road that led to the docks.
Meaning he had an escape route.
Meaning he had something waiting there for him.
Danny’s jaw clenched, his lips dropping to a snarl as he bared his teeth with a growl. Turner kept driving, weaving between a maze of shipping containers instead of traffic now; winding closer and closer to the docks.
It meant he was ready to move a shipment.
It meant Danny had one shot to take him down before…before…
— “Jump!” —
A shudder ran through him at the thought, it sent pinpricks across his skin before he shook his head. Dim lights strobed slowly as they dipped between containers and further into the labyrinth of rusted containers.
He was going to get Dragovic this time. He wasn’t going to be able to slither away from this one; he wouldn’t be able to get away from him—
“Down!” Danny shrieked as they turned the corner and found themselves head to head with a row of headlights set in front of a towering container ship.
Turner yelped, slamming on the brake and cranking the wheel to the side as a row of men stepped from the shadows; their weapons glinting in the low light before they were lit up by muzzle flash.
Danny didn’t even attempt to fire back as bullets went flying as he took the wheel from Turner. He tugged it in the other direction before shoving Turner out the door and he followed suit. Diving over the driver’s seat he landed on concrete and gravel, wincing as skin scraped against sharp rocks before breaking and he took cover behind their vehicle as it came to a stop.
Lead punched holes through the already destroyed Land Rover, making disconnected constellations that flickering lights glimmered through like dying stars.
“Nighthawk!” Turner yelled, shielding his head as bullets pierced above his head, “Plan. Now.”
Danny nodded, swinging his head around the shipping yard before he paused.
They were cut off by a wall of Dragovic’s men and held in place by thousands of stacked containers. There was nowhere for them to go but…
Forward.
Danny gulped, wincing as a bullet ricocheted over his head and he glanced over the men in front of him before something else caught his eye.
Most of the shipping yard was dark, only security lights lit their way but that wasn’t the case for the crane that was lit up like a shining beacon. It moved slowly, loading shipping containers onto the ship in front of them.
The ship that had a dragon curling around the bow.
A shivered huff came from his lips as he realized what was happening. Dragovic was loading the last of his cargo before he took off into the night.
Cargo.
Danny let his eyes narrow up at the crane before they flicked toward the containers.
Shit.
“The containers,” he muttered, his gaze flicking back to the operator’s cabin.
Turner frowned, following his look before his face fell, “Shit.”
“Go,” Danny said, licking his lips as he glanced down at the last pistol and mag in his hand, “Shut down the crane. I’ll cover—”
“It is too late, забойца.” A voice came from behind the firing line which had gone silent. His raspy, low tone echoed through the shipping yard.
It chilled Danny to the bone.
He hadn’t heard it up close and personal since…
Since…
— “Mind your business, Shadow. And I will mind mine.” —
He froze, his eyes widening slightly as he realized that the fighting had stopped. Moving slowly, he poked his head over the hood of the car before a low growl tore through his throat.
Casimiro Dragovic.
He was there. Right there, right in front of him. Sure, he was surrounded by guards that were starting to fan away toward the ship but still…
Wait.
Another snarl as Danny straightened his eyes and teeth flashing in the light.
His men were slowly loading onto the ship, they moved their human wall from in front of them to lining the ship's railing and aiming down at them.
“You are too late,” Dragovic hummed with a small smile as he leaned on his cane and practically goaded Danny into stalking toward him.
The instant he stepped foot from behind the remnants of their car, a hail of bullets stormed down from the men that lined the ship. Turner latched onto his shoulder, tugging him back behind what was left of their shelter as Dragovic smiled.
He raised two fingers, pointing them both at Danny with a pop as he relaxed back and tossed his cane to himself. Dragovic slipped into the darkness as flashes of blasts from his men filled the shipping yard.
No. No. No.
This wasn’t happening again. He wasn’t going to lose him again.
Danny couldn’t lose to him again.
His eyes narrowed the thin slits of yellow as he glared up at the ship before they flicked back to the crane.
If he could get to the crane, he could get a shot.
That was all he needed.
One shot.
Danny forced a breath as the gunfire stopped for just a moment and he reached up to heave the backdoor of the car open before fumbling around for the muzzle of a rifle that ran along the floor.
“What are you doing?” Turner hissed as Danny handed him his pistol and shrugged the rifle over his shoulder.
“Cover me,” he said simply, glancing up at the crane before he mapped his route between the shipping containers.
“Wait!” he exclaimed, wincing as Danny’s movements caught the eye of the guards above them again, “Where are you—Nevermind.”
Turner rolled his eyes with a slight pout as Danny darted toward the containers.
He didn’t care that bullets were right on his heels or that the sound of their ricochets nearly clipped his ear or that bursts of sparks were thrown off the containers as he dipped between them. Danny paused for only a moment, turning to fire a pair of rounds up at the men on the ship and getting their attention long enough that Turner had time to make an escape before he turned back to the task at hand.
Kill Dragovic.
It was all that mattered. As long as he was nothing more than a corpse by the end of the night, Danny would win.
— “Jump!” —
— “No! I can’t leave them!” —
— “We don’t have time, princesa!” —
— “Please! Help me save them.” —
Danny winced at the sound of her voice circling through his ears as it cracked and pleaded with him.
But it kept him going.
With a running leap, he flew toward the side of a container before jumping off of it and grasping onto the edge of another. A grunt sounded through the night as he lifted himself to the top of the container and made a run for it. His breaths were ragged, offset by wayward bullets as he sprinted across the containers.
The crane was in sight, he was so close and, even as Dragovic’s ship’s horn blared through the night as it pulled away from the dock, he kept going.
The ship drifted away, almost as if Dragovic was giving him time to get there.
As if he knew that Danny would fail after everything he’d been through that night.
No. No. No. No. No. No.
He wasn’t going to lose to him again.
Danny glanced toward the ship, a sharp yell pierced from his lips as it pulled even further away before he shook his head and slid the rifle on his back into his hands.
He pulled it to his shoulder, trying to force his breathing to even out before his finger slipped to the trigger.
The rifle’s shot echoed through the night, the recoil stabbing into his shoulder as he adjusted his grip on the weapon.
Miss.
Danny growled, pressing his cheek against the stock and staring through the scope as Dragovic stood on the stern. The man watched him carefully as he loosed another bullet.
Miss.
His nose crinkled into a snarl as his brows knitted together and he took one last shot.
Miss.
“¡Maldito cobarde baboso!” Danny shrieked, tossing away the rifle with a pained hiss, “You can’t run forever, maldito lagarto! I’ll find you!”
His voice roared across the harbor loud enough that Dragovic smiled with a laugh.
“Пабачым, цень,” he yelled back, “Мы ўбачым.” We shall see, Shadow. We shall see.
¡Joder! That was it. The only shot he had in months. Who knew when Dragovic would surface again or how many more he would take.
Yet again, Danny failed.
Maybe he could hijack another boat. Maybe if he climbed to the top of the crane he could swing out to the disappearing ship.
Now, that was ridiculous.
He heaved a breath with a long sigh as he glared at the ship. Its gray hull began to mesh with the mist that came off the ocean as it left the harbor, but the black dragon that marked the stern stared back at him.
It mocked him.
Danny hissed, straightening himself as the ship began to fade but the letters of its name still stood out in the night.
Veles.
There was nothing else on the ship. Just a simple name and the symbol that sent fury shooting through every part of Danny’s being as it left them in silence and then darkness as the crane’s lights powered off.
“I told you you were a shit shot,” Turner said from below him, standing on the ground and leaning against a faded shipping container, “Weston’s gonna be pissed.”
Danny said nothing, barely even casting his partner a glance as he glared out at the ship before it shifted to the now dark and silent crane. He cocked his head to the side, staring at the machine for a moment longer before he snatched up his discarded rifle and threw it over his shoulder.
Launching himself over the side, he landed beside Turner and began to quickly stalk through the maze of containers.
“Where are we going?” Turner asked, jogging to keep up with him as he moved through the darkness.
“To get some answers,” Danny replied simply, looking back up at the crane and slinging the rifle back into his hand. He ejected a spent round, letting the casing fall to the gravel beneath his feet.
“Danny—”
“Nighthawk,” he growled, lurching toward Turner with a feral rasp in his throat, “This mission isn’t over till I say it’s over.”
Turner sighed, letting Danny get a few steps ahead of him before he allowed himself to roll his eyes with a playful grin, “Aye, aye, Captain.”
He paused in his stride, shaking his head slowly as Turner caught back up to him, “He takes more and more every day, Outbreak. No one looks for them, no one looks for him. I’m fuckin’ tired of it.”
A curt nod from Turner was the only answer he got as he slung the rifle back over his shoulder and they continued toward the crane.
A lone shadow caught Danny’s attention as the crane’s operator stepped onto the gravel in front of them. His jaw clenched as he looked over the man.
He didn’t even know they were there, left in the wake of Dragovic’s ambush.
“Hey, amigo,” Danny growled, startling the man but also catching his attention as they prowled toward him.
The man jumped, his eyes wide as he turned to make a run for it. Danny scoffed, rolling his eyes and grabbing Turner’s pistol from its holster. He turned it on the man in an instant and fired without thinking.
A yelp tore through the night as the man fell to the ground.
“Great. You killed him.” Turner deadpanned with a long, heaving sigh as he trudged after Danny. He sent him a wayward glance before a low groan came from the man’s direction and he straightened with a hum, “Nevermind. He’s fine.”
A laugh managed its way from Danny’s chest as he came to a stop beside the man and towered over him, “Boa noite, meu amigo.”
The man glared up at him, a flurry of words leaving his lips as he shouted at Danny.
Danny didn’t even bother to translate them as he let the man get it out and he nodded along before sucking a hiss through his teeth, “Fine.”
Snatching the man’s collar into his fist, Danny ripped him off the ground and onto his back before reaching down for the dark red stain that was seeping through the man’s leg. He pressed his thumb into the wound, earning a screech from the man as he held him down.
“Onde ele está indo?” he asked, ignoring the man’s cries as they echoed off the containers boxing them in. Where is he going?
“Quem?” the man managed to stutter, clawing at Danny’s hands as his grip tightened on him.
“Dragovic,” Danny snarled, pressing harder on the wound, “Onde ele está indo?” Where is he going?
The man yelped, his nails digging into the flesh of Danny’s wrists and piercing the skin, “Eu não sei quem é.” I don’t know who that is.
“Try again,” he muttered, throwing the man’s hands off of him before pinning him against the gravel, “O homem no navio. Onde ele está indo?” The man on the ship. Where is he going?
“Eu não sei quem ele era!” I don't know who he was!
“Para onde ele os está levando?” Danny asked, his voice rising slightly as he shook the man. His eyes narrowed to slits as the man’s eyes began to grow heavy and he began to slur. Where is he taking them?
“Quem?” he asked, his fight against Danny growing weaker, “Não sei do que você está falando!” Who? I don’t know what you’re talking about!
“The containers!” he snapped, reaching down to press on the wound again and making the man squirm back to life, “As mulheres nos contêineres. Para onde ele os está levando?”
The women in the containers. Where is he taking them?
The man seemed to pause with a blink, sudden realization flooding through his eyes as he shook his head in fear,
“Eu não sabia—” he started before shaking his head wildly, “E-Ele acabou de me pagar para estar aqui—” I didn’t know—H-He just paid me to be here—
Dany cocked his head to the side, his brow knitting together as he glared at the man, “Então você é inútil?” So you’re useless?
“No. No! No!” the man screamed, trying to get away from him as Danny stood and aimed his pistol at him one last time.
He fired without a second thought, shaking his head in disappointment as the man went limp and he turned to Turner.
“Nothin’?” he asked, dropping his gaze away from the body as Danny began to walk away.
“‘He paid me.’ ‘He told me to not ask questions.’,” Danny mocked with a low growl, handing the pistol back to Turner, “They all say the same goddamn thing. They’re all the same goddamn cowards.”
“Nah, it means Dragovic has a type he likes to play,” Turner hummed with a sigh, checking his pistol before holstering it, “What do you wanna do with him?”
“Don’t care.” He shrugged, rolling his shoulders before letting his gaze lift to the horizon as lights began to flash and strobe, “Get the car.”
“The car?” Turner deadpanned, looking up at him with a scoff, “I hate to break it to you but the car isn’t a car anymore.”
“Then get a car, genius.”
He sighed, rolling his eyes as Danny continued to move through the maze of containers, “And, where are you going?”
“Just get the car,” he said, waving off his partner and quickly stepping toward the darkened offices that were above the harbor. Turner took off in the opposite direction, weaving between containers as Danny broke into a sprint as the lights grew brighter and brighter.
— “Jump!” —
He slipped through the night, not daring a look over his shoulder as he made it to the harbor master’s building and kicked open the door.
— “No! I can’t leave them!” —
Danny tore through the place, hiding the bile in his throat with a growl as he began to dig through the pile of papers that littered each of the desks.
— “We don’t have time, princesa!” —
There had to be something. Something had to tell him where Dragovic and the Veles were heading.
— “Please! Help me save them.” —
There had to be something he could do to help them.
Another low growl filled the room as he moved from the desks to digging in the trash like a feral animal before he found what he was looking for.
An entire stack of papers was carefully hidden at the very bottom of one of the trash cans, each one had the name he was looking for.
Veles.
He nodded to himself, glancing through the stack before hugging it to his chest and wincing as the lights out the window began to shine through the shipping yard. A sharp wince worked through him as a pair of headlights pulled up to the building in a screech of tires.
“Let’s go, man!” Turner called, grimacing as he looked over his shoulder, “They’re lighting this place up like the Fourth of July.”
Danny scoffed with a nod, tucking the stack of papers under his arm and ducking out of the building before he paused. Pulling a lighter from his pocket and snatching a scrap of paper, he lit a corner on fire before throwing it into one of the bins and turning on his heel.
Slipping from the building he dove into the backseat, “Drive!”
“On it,” Turner said, flooring it as the police cars began to file through the shipping yard, “Tell me you have something.”
Danny shrugged, flipping through the papers in his hands as amber light began to overtake the building behind them and Turner tore through a chainlink fence.
“We’ll find out.”
Papers covered nearly every surface in the small hotel room Danny and Turner had been in for the past week. Nearly all of them belong to Danny and his file on Dragovic. They were all frustratingly vague. To the untrained eye, they didn’t connect at all. There was no paper trail for them to follow.
But not to Danny.
Each piece of paper was a piece of the puzzle; it was a clue that Dragovic had left behind.
Danny heaved a sigh, perching on the corner of his bed as he looked over the new papers he’d stolen from the shipping yard. They didn’t give him much, but they gave him enough to start putting together more of a picture.
Over the months Danny had been tracking Dragovic, he’d always been keen on covering his tracks. And Danny had been keen on sniffing him out.
Luckily, he was getting more and more attuned to Dragovic’s operations.
Unfortunately.
Most of his and Commander Weston’s operations had at least some semblance of entertainment to them. Bringing corrupt politicians to light, helping aid in revolutions, assassinating criminals no one else wanted to touch.
It was fun.
But…Dragovic?
Dragovic was not. Of all the monsters that Danny had faced in his years of running by the Commander’s side, Casimiro Dragovic took the cake.
His human smuggling ring garnered little attention from the authorities and the people he smuggled never seemed to resurface.
At first, Danny had thought that Dragovic was just that good but, as more and more women began to go missing to never come back and Casimiro’s operations came into clearer view, he had other suspicions.
But that didn’t matter.
What mattered was taking down Dragovic and cleaning up the aftermath later.
All he had to do was find him again.
It had taken him a month the first time, digging through Dragovic’s dummy accounts and going through some of his weaker men. It was easier the next time, only taking him a few weeks to track him down before the man disappeared again and Danny was back to square one.
Another month and he’d found him in Rio.
And then Danny blew it.
It was a split-second reaction and he hesitated. He’d taken way too long to take the shot. He’d taken too long getting Khatri and his men out of the picture. He’d taken too long getting back through the building and chasing him through the streets.
Danny was out of time.
He had to get out in front of him. He had to figure out where he was going and get there before Dragovic did.
His jaw clenched as he stared off into the distance, his hands balling to fists as his eyes narrowed and the lights in their cheap motel room flickered.
He couldn’t let it happen again…
— The streetlamps flickered as a bolt of lightning hit off the horizon. Danny clung to wet metal, his hand outreaching for her, “She’s the last one. Now you, princesa!” —
Danny blinked, shaking his head slightly as he shifted from the past and back to the present. When he did, Turner was out of the shower and lounging on the bed staring at him before he nodded when he got his attention.
“What?” Danny asked, setting down his papers and glancing at him with a frown.
Turner looked him over slowly before he pointed at him, “You sure you don’t want me to take a look at that?”
“A look at what?” He blinked, looking around him as Turner lifted a brow and pointed at him again. Danny followed his point, glancing down at himself before catching sight of the bloodstain that had formed on his stomach. A hum chirped from his throat, “Huh. Is it mine?”
“The blood?” he asked with a scoff, “I don’t know, man.”
Danny chuckled lightly, rocking to his feet and lifting his feet before catching sight of a minorly bad stab wound.
“Huh…” he muttered as Turner jumped off the couch to grab his medkit, “When did that happen?”
Pressing his hand against the wound, he shook his head before he froze. His eyes landed on a single piece of paper amongst the stack he had just acquired.
It was a bill of lading.
A manifest of what Dragovic said was on the Veles.
And its destination.
He hissed a breath, slipping a bloodstained hand from his stomach to gently pull out the rest of the paper before a grin curled to his lips.
Perfect.
“What is it?” Turner asked, coming back around the corner with his kit.
“Our heading,” he breathed, the grin on his face growing.
“What?”
“The Congo,” Danny said, showing him the paper with an even bigger grin, even as Turner’s face dropped, “That’s where he’s headed.”
Turner frowned, gently peeling the paper away from Danny’s scarlet-stained hands, “It’s in the middle of a civil war, Gonzalez.”
“Then he’s not going there to sell,” he said slowly, wincing as Turner pressed against the stain.
He nodded, grimacing slightly as he began to clean the wound, “He’s going to buy.”
He was right. The eastern parts of the country were in turmoil and chaos. If there was a good time for people to go missing and not get missed, it was now.
Danny swallowed thickly, “Or take.”
“Weston’s still stateside,” Turner muttered, pulling a suture kit from his bag, “Training mission.”
“Then we’ll meet him there.” Danny winced again, sucking a low hiss through his teeth, “Tell him not to bring the rookie with him. I’m not in the mood.”
“Okay,” he chuckled, glancing up at him with a raised brow, “One: the Commander doesn't listen to either of us. Two: He’s not gonna bring a rookie in like this.”
“We have to move fast on this one.” He licked his lips nervously, glancing down at the words that spread across the bill of lading.
Destination: Port of Boma, Democratic Republic of Congo
“No voy a perderlo de nuevo.”
I’m not losing him again.
The forest was dark. The sun was barely creeping over the horizon; barely able to curl through the twisted trees that knitted together like wild vines. They stitched together in long, winding tunnels, hiding the gray sky that loomed above. A low fog drifted over the forest floor, seeping between trees and under their roots. Despite the darkness, the silhouette of a cargo net swung on a chilled breeze.
It creaked in the wind, echoing through the trees nearly in time with your footsteps.
Your chest burned, the sound of your wheezing breaths and hammering heart were the only things you could hear. Iron tainted your taste buds as you threw yourself at the cargo net and scrambled to the top before diving over. You held on for only a moment before you dropped to the ground and kept running.
The thud of your combat boots reverberated off the trees, barely audible over your heart as it hammered in your ears. You vaulted over a line of logs, each taller than the next before you threw yourself over the last and landed in a crouch before your eyes flicked up to the trees and your fingers fell to the pistol holstered at your side.
The pistol with a set number of bullets that Commander Weston had left you.
You only had one shot.
Your hand wrapped around the weapon as you turned the corner before you drew it up in front of you. The instant you did, a target sprung out from behind a tree and you fired; hitting it dead center. Another spring clicked behind you and you spun around, firing twice at two humanlike targets that leaped out from behind a pair of bushes.
You hit them both right between the eyes.
Another one leaped up behind you and received the same treatment before you continued down the trail.
As you came around the last corner, five more targets were triggered all around you. Whirling around in a circle, each target received your last five pullets before a sixth appeared from the shadow.
You winced at the silhouette, your finger staying on the trigger as you spun around to face it and you attempted to fire even as the slide cocked back empty. A shaky breath managed its way from your lips as you pulled the trigger twice more before the target stepped from the mist.
Commander Weston.
You swallowed thickly, straightening as he stalked from the shadows and you stood at attention.
Weston looked you over slowly, unemotionally, before he spoke, “Count your bullets.”
“Yes, sir.” You nodded quickly, holstering your weapon as he turned to look over your work, “You startled me, that’s all, sir.”
“Be aware of your surroundings,” he said, striding toward one of the targets and staring at the hole in its head before he glanced at you with darkened eyes, “You need to know when you’re being watched.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And this,” he hummed, pressing a finger through the hole before backing away from it, “Good in theory. In practice, anything worth shooting—”
“Is worth shooting twice.” You finished for him quickly, earning yourself a curt nod.
He licked his lips, pulling a small cigar case from his pocket and popping a cigar from it. Pulling a freshly stoned knife from behind his back, he slashed away the tip of the cigar before slinging the knife back to its place, “Double taps. Center mass.”
“Yes, sir.”
Weston took a breath, flicking a light from his pocket and puffing on his cigar as he lit the end. Sucking a hiss through his teeth, he glanced over his shoulder before letting a cloud of smoke meld with the mist.
He had a look on his face. Something you couldn’t quite place.
He seemed to be debating something. You just hoped it didn’t have anything to do with you.
You swallowed nervously, shaking the feeling to rock side to side as you looked up at him, “Sir?”
He glanced at you, his eyes darting over you quickly before he took another drag on his cigar, “My team is moving, Lieutenant.”
You held back a sigh, biting your cheek as you bowed your head with a nod.
He was leaving again. You weren’t even halfway through your training with Aftermath and he was taking off again.
“My assignment while you’re gone, sir?” you asked, keeping your gaze low as he started toward you.
At least he’d give you something to keep you occupied while he was gone. Maybe you’d do better than you did the last time. Maybe you’d finally impress him—
“Pack light,” he muttered with a puff of smoke, “Essentials only.”
You blinked, your gaze snapping to him in an instant as a small smile curled to your lips, “Sir?”
“I have your weapons already waiting,” he said, ignoring the look on your face as he took a step down the trail and partially disappeared into the mist.
Yes! You were going! You could finally spread your wings! You could…
You weren’t even halfway done with your training…and he was taking you out into the field.
You licked your lips, calling after him before he disappeared completely, “Commander?”
Weston turned to you, raising a brow as he waited for you to speak.
“Am I ready?”
“No.” He shook his head simply, taking another puff on his cigar and disappearing into the smoke that it spewed, “But you’ll have to do.”
You paused, watching after him as his silent steps vanished.
You weren’t ready. He’d said it himself.
Who were you kidding? You couldn’t remember half of the things he taught you. You couldn’t keep up with him half the time but…
You gritted your teeth, your eyes narrowing as you rolled your shoulders with a nod.
You’d been through worse. You could do this.
You were ready for anything and everything he would throw at you.
Fuck it.
You were ready.
