Their Obsession (Four Mercenaries 2)

“I hope that’s not the kind of cargo you’re having us guard. We don’t do that,” Boar said in a low voice.

Pete shook his head and pulled out another phone, this one a much newer model. “Nothing like it, boys, chill. I’m just letting my employer know you’ve arrived, and we’ll be off. You a natural albino, or is this like… a fashion statement?” Pete asked, eyeing Clover from above the device.

Drake scowled. “What is wrong with you? Fuck off from our boy and let’s get going.”

“Oh! ‘Your boy’?” Pete grinned. “Now I get why he’s here, all pretty and fresh-faced. Are you that gay merc crew I keep hearing about?”

Clover pushed at Pete’s chest, unable to contain his rage any longer. “That’s not why I’m here! I’m here to do the job, like everyone else!”

Pete didn’t answer, but his eyes said, Of course you are, in a mocking tone that rang in Clover’s head. But his mouth was more civil and kept his real thoughts behind a curtain.

“Okay, guys. Let’s just get on with it, shall we? No hard feelings. The motorcycle?” Pete asked, dismissing the whole thing as if he hadn’t touched one of them without permission. What the hell?

“Not until you fucking apologize first!” Seemingly out of nowhere, Pyro shoved Pete so hard the guy’s shoulder hit the truck, and his smartphone dropped to the asphalt.

Clover’s mind went blank when a photo of him glitched to life on the screen for half a second. Tank telling Pyro to back off was a blur when Clover’s heart started beating furiously, as if itching to break free from the confines of his ribcage.

“One?” he said in a high pitch he resented. “One? He took my photo! I saw a photo of me on there!”

Pete’s face twisted in the sparse light, and he reached back, his entire body rigid like a cobra’s before it struck. Drake smashed into him like a truck, climbed on top, and forced the bastard under him with a hold that had Pete howling in pain.

“No, look, I just… I’m gay too. He’s a pretty boy, okay?” Pete stuttered out, but nobody listened to his claims. Drake hooked Pete’s throat with one arm and forced him to rise to his knees while Boar searched the subdued man, retrieving two firearms.

Tank picked up the phone, but wasn’t satisfied after trying to switch it on. “Fingerprint recognition? Really?”

His broad back was a wall Clover was safe behind. “Fine. If you’re gay, show me your phone. I’ll delete the photo myself.”

Pete sucked in air, his gaze moving frantically, as if he wanted to assess how much damage each of them could inflict. “Come on. This is unnecessary. Sorry for being a shit. I’m not the nicest guy around, I know.”

Clover wasn’t sure what was going on anymore, but all four of his men were dead serious. Tank kneeled next to Pete without a word, but when he tried to grab the bastard's hand, Pete shrieked and twisted in Drake’s hold. “No. If you do this, you’re dead. My boss will go after you. I mean it! There is confidential information on there.”

But nobody was fucking around anymore. Tank yanked at Pete’s hand, and the strange crack that followed had Pete shaking. Tank scanned his thumb.

Clover awaited Tank’s verdict with a hollowness in his skull. He stood with fists clenched, ignoring Pete’s wrestling match with Drake, because he doubted Drake needed help when dealing with a guy like Pete.

Tank’s frown deepened as he searched through the device, but the way his chest expanded when he sucked in too much air pushed Clover down the darkest well.

Tank turned the phone toward Pete, showing an exchange of messages that ended with the photo. “DARWIN? Who’s that?”

Clover was so overwhelmed by fear that his feet froze to the ground, but Pyro took the phone out of Tank’s hand and looked at the screen, which lit up his face with an eerie white glow. “Is that your albino?” he read out before raising his head again.

No. This can’t be happening. Not again.

Drake’s cheeks hollowed when he pulled out his favorite blade. “I’m going to enjoy making you talk!”

Pete smashed his elbow into Drake’s side so suddenly he managed to twist out of the one-handed hold. He bolted to the other side of the road. He wouldn’t stand a chance in a race against Drake, who bared his teeth, a snake about to strike.

An enormous white light came out of nowhere, and the air filled with the roar of a horn. Drake took a rapid step back, and the grille of the upcoming truck slammed into Pete at full speed.

Chapter 4 – Tank

Tank’s thoughts were a junkyard on a dark, rainy night—messy, dangerous, and with no way out in sight. The bright lights of the police car kept agitating his nerves, but at least he wasn’t the one being questioned. Boar already lied to the police that Pete had stopped them moments before the accident, claiming that someone was after him before running straight under the wheels of the truck.