Captured By The Mercenaries

Silently, we urged our animals to race over the hot sand. We kept the pace to one that Mulligan could keep up with, but urged him to go as quickly as he could.

* * *

By the timewe arrived in the city it was edging toward evening. The sun was still shining brightly, but some of the heat had dissipated.

We hurried past the outdoor market, following Rafe into a back alley, where he banged on a door. He kept knocking until someone ripped the door open.

“What the fuck are you-” the man broke off, gaping at Rafe. “Holy shit!” he said with a laugh and caught Rafe up in a huge bear hug.

“Put me down, Weaver,” Rafe barked at him. “Where’s Brando?”

“Come on in. I’ll get him.” The man held the door open and his eyebrows shot up to his hairline as Colby smiled at him when she passed.

“Holy… You guys have some explaining to do,” Weaver said, returning her smile.

I glared at him and stepped in between him and Colby. We’d known Weaver for years and while we were all friends I didn’t like the look he was giving our girl. We’d have to have a talk about that later.

“Not now,” Rafe snapped. “Time is of the-”

“Got it, got it,” Weaver grumbled. He walked over to a staircase and bellowed. The sound echoed around the house. “Brandon, get your ass down here!”

Colby flinched and edged closer to Arsen. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and tucked her in against his side.

I couldn’t help but smile. She was a strong woman, a warrior in her own right, but she was learning to take comfort in us. To come to us when she didn’t feel safe. I was sure she didn’t realize she’d even done it. That made it all the more satisfying. Especially after the recent upheaval we’d gone through. She was staying true to her word. We had promised to respect her wishes, and she wasn’t holding back.

The man coming down the stairs glared at Weaver. “You’re hollering loud enough to wake the fucking dead, Weav-” he broke off when he saw us standing there. “Shit. Is Roj after you?” He reached behind a pillar and pulled out a rifle.

Frowning, I craned my neck to see where exactly it’d been hidden. My eyes scanned the house wondering how many more weapons he had stashed around here. Knowing Brando there were guns and knives littering every inch of the house.

“Good to see you Arsen, Sig,” Brando continued.

“You too, Brother,” I told him. “Roj isn’t coming for us.”

“He’s gotten hold of a dirty bomb. It probably got here at least fifteen minutes ago.”

“Fuck me,” Weaver hissed out. He left the room, bellowing out more names.

Colby looked at Brandon. “Where in the city would a bomb do the most damage? He’d be looking for a high body count.”

Brandon blinked at her in surprise, but answered. “The market, especially this time of evening. Most of the city comes out to purchase their goods closer toward sunset.” He paused to consider this. “The winds usually reverse in the evening, they start blowing from the east.”

“What does that mean exactly?” I asked, trying to see what point he was making.

“If he detonates a dirty bomb on the east end of the market, the wind would push the chemicals to the west, across the whole market and out into the city, maximizing exposure. We should look on the east side.”

“Rafe,” Colby said, his name a plea.

“Let’s go,” he said. “We have to find it.”

“And do what?” Brandon asked in disbelief.

“I can disarm it,” Colby told him.

That had all of us pausing. Brandon’s team stepped into the room right as she said that. That was why they’d brought her out here. To disarm the bombs Roj was setting. In some weird way we owed the man for leading us straight to her. Not that I planned on giving him any mercy whatsoever.

“And who are you, Sweetheart?” Suave asked. He was a well-known ladies man, thus the nickname.

Rafe cut him a withering look. The man held up his hands in a sign of peace. “Got it, Rafe. The question still stands.”