Their Property (Four Mercenaries 3)

Tank led the way, and soon enough they all dashed through a web of corridors built underneath the amphitheatre. Clover didn’t ask questions, following their leader through hallways curiously devoid of people, even though each one of them was prepared to fight their way through any adversary. Nobody tried to stop them. The one woman they’d seen skittered away before Clover could have assessed whether she was a prisoner or a member of Apollo’s entourage. There was no time to find out.

Tank sped up once the corridor changed its angle, creating a mild slope toward the surface. The door at the end needed only a little shove, and as they left the well-lit underground level, stepping into the night, it took Clover’s eyes several seconds to adjust.

“But, what about the van?” he asked right before he realized that the concrete circle in the middle of a small clearing of the dense woods was there for a reason.

A helicopter stood right in front of him, its rotor a stark black against the gray clouds, but before he could have asked any more questions, Tank approached a tiny cabin and broke its door. Clover’s heart raced, making his brain pulsate with vivid colors until Drake’s arm found its way around his waist and put him at ease.

“Adam, what the hell? Where’s the boss?” asked a middle-aged man, whom Tank walked out of the cabin in wrinkled clothes that he’d clearly worn to bed.

“Shut up and you might live,” Tank hissed, shoving him forward. The man looked at them, his eyes wide with fear as he squeezed a mid-sized duffel bag to his chest.

“But my clothes—”

“You’ll return for them,” Tank said, walking the stranger straight to the machine. Clover initially felt sorry for the frightened pilot, but if he worked for someone like Apollo, maybe he didn’t deserve sympathy.

Hope bloomed deep in Clover’s chest when the door to the helicopter opened. It took less than a minute for their whole group to settle inside, and Clover was grateful for Drake’s continuous presence at his side. Fear remained a living thing in his chest, refusing to let go until the engine came to life, and the helicopter rose.

Tears welled in Clover’s eyes, but he remained still, knowing it wasn’t because of sadness but relief that they’d all come out of that crazy situation alive. Even Pyro seemed in good spirits, leaning against Boar with his leg lifted.

“You guys know we have to disappear?” Drake asked, with no emotion in his voice.

Pyro snorted and hugged Boar’s massive chest. “I needed a vacation anyway.”

Epilogue – Clover

Snow creaked under Clover’s boots, and his fingers were freezing, but he couldn’t stop smiling. Since Boar carried the firewood, Clover got to walk Six, their malamute puppy. The ball of fur was completely white, and Boar had told Clover he’d chosen this one because it reminded him of Clover.

“We should have all gotten one, like the Starks on Game of Thrones.”

Boar rolled his eyes. “Let’s see how you handle one. He’s gonna grow to half your weight.”

Clover shrugged, stopping to let Six sniff a bush. “I’m willing to be the attentive uncle, but you’ll have to handle him yourself. Unless, of course, we do get a second one. Come on, Boar. Wouldn’t it be amazing? They could pull a sleigh together.”

“When Six grows up he should be able to pull you in a sleigh anyway.”

Clover scooted next to the puppy and petted its head. They’d only had the dog for two weeks, and Clover couldn’t get enough of him. He laughed when it rolled in the snow, and he took off his thick glove to let Six lick his fingers with its warm tongue.

Growing up in Arizona, he never imagined ending up in Alaska, of all places. He’d experienced a harsh winter last year in Oregon, but since they’d moved, Tank kept talking about how they needed to have their own generator, provisions, and a whole shed full of firewood. He’d even stocked up on Vitamin D to help them get through the short winter days. It all felt excessive, since they lived half an hour’s drive from Fairbanks. Clover was pretty sure Tank was on his way to becoming a full-blown prepper, but the fact that Tank still had his arm in a cast could have also played a role in the craziness.

Spending a whole winter away from trouble and danger would do them all good, so Clover didn’t mind doing extra chores, even if Tank was frustrated he couldn’t help with some of the usual tasks. On the bright side, he kept promising Clover that he would take him camping in the spring, so that was something to look forward to.

They’d left the house at six and now, just an hour later, it was dark.

Clover glanced into the stubbornly dark sky. “I want to see the Northern Lights. We’ve been here a month, and still nothing,” he complained.