The Steel Dragon (Steel Dragons Series Book 2)

by Kevin McLaughlin

  “And into whose?” Kristen asked and struggled to remain calm.

  “Just…let’s check on Heartsbane,” he said.

  Kristen nodded. She could at least agree that the well-being of her team was the priority. That was why it was so important to find out as much as they possibly could about it.

  She took a deep breath. While she was as frustrated as hell, she knew that losing her temper with the dragons wouldn’t accomplish anything. Instead, she followed her teammates down to a medical wing that she hadn’t known existed.

  They found Heartsbane already up and moving around despite an attendant who continued to fuss about her. “I’m telling you, Hypocrandas, it feels fine.”

  “That doesn’t mean you should be moving already,” the female mage protested. Her curly brown hair stuck up in a puff from the middle of her head and the sides of her head were shaved.

  “It’s fine.” The dragon winced. She’d tried to gesture with the arm and had aggravated the injury.

  “It will be,” Hypocrandas said. “Your healing rate is unaffected by the wound, so you’ll be fine soon, but this was a gunshot. Humans can take months to heal from such a serious injury. You can’t expect to be better in only a few hours.”

  “That’s good, though,” Stonequest interjected and drew an awkward but deferential bow from the mage. “The bullet hurt you,” he continued, “but at least it hasn’t retarded your natural healing ability. You’ll simply have to sit tight for a week or so.” He sounded incredibly relieved.

  “What about the bullet itself?” Kristen asked.

  Hypocrandas bowed at the question and showed her the same respect she had given Stonequest. “There was no sign of the bullet, Lady Steel. It went straight through the muscle and exited the shoulder behind it. Maybe if it had struck a bone it would have stopped but then Lady Heartsbane would be out even longer. I think it was a lucky thing.”

  “Do you have any idea what kind of ammunition could do this to a dragon?” she asked.

  Hypocrandas looked at Stonequest, who shook his head curtly.

  “No, my Lady.”

  Kristen noticed the exchange between him and the healer and glared at him. “If there are no leads, we need to try to find them, right?” They both knew damn well there were leads. Two dragons had already been killed by handguns. This was a pattern, not merely random thugs.

  “Drop it, Lady Steel,” he ordered.

  “But shouldn’t we at least try to find out? Isn’t this the point of Dragon SWAT? We’re supposed to protect dragon kind and keep things stable. I see a gun that can hurt and kill dragons as a threat to dragons and possibly the greatest destabilizing force on the planet right now.”

  “She has a point,” Emerald added. “This is a mystery that needs to be solved.”

  The leader folded his arms and stared a little belligerently at the two youngest dragons on the team. “It will be solved, but not by us. This whole thing is out of our hands. The Dragon Council has classified the matter. It’s above our rank now. Special Operations will sink their claws into it. These kinds of investigations simply aren’t what SWAT is supposed to do. Believe me, when this whole situation is finally resolved and declassified, I will be the first to read the report, but until then, we need to respect the hierarchy.”

  “Wait, Special Operations? I thought Dragon SWAT was special operations.” She frowned in confusion.

  “I’ve said too much already.” Stonequest rubbed his face with his hands.

  “For the sake of dragon’s fire, tell her the rumors, at least,” Heartsbane said.

  “If you’ll excuse me.” Hypocrandas bowed and saw herself out of her own office. Kristen hated the way human mages deferred to dragon authority, but now was hardly the time to get into office politics.

  “There’s nothing to tell,” the leader said stubbornly.

  “Nothing but rumors, anyway,” Lumos added and earned a glare from Stonequest.

  “Oh, hush,” Lumos chided. “There have been rumors for over a hundred years. If she grew up as a dragon, she’d know them already.”

  “True that,” Emerald said. “I had heard about special ops before I joined SWAT. Everyone has.”

  “Everyone has heard what?” Kristen asked and tried not to sound demanding.

  “There’s not much to tell,” Stonequest said before Lumos could add anything. “Aside from the fact that they’re real. I’ve seen one of their agents cleaning up a mess before, but they’re a shadow group. They’re used by the Council when they don’t want their work to be done in the open.”

  “When the Council wants to keep secrets, you mean?” she said, her tone accusatory.

  He took a deep breath, obviously frustrated.

  Lumos sighed. “Look, Lady Steel—Kristen—you have to remember the scope of the Dragon Council. They’re responsible for maintaining international peace not only between dragon factions but between human governments as well. After the world wars, there has been less overt aggression in the world—mostly—but counterintelligence measures between nations have become more and more secretive, which makes sense. Dragons can’t allow a hidden network of information to exist. It would be the perfect channel to start another war, or worse, a rebellion.”

  She thought a war was far worse than people standing up against dragon kind but knew enough to not say anything about that.

  “The dragons who work for Special Operations have a tough, thankless job, but they get it done. It’s better if you simply forget about them and focus on SWAT,” Stonequest said.

  “Well, that sounds better than the bullshit we’re doing,” she muttered.

  Of course, all the other dragons heard. They had extra sensitive hearing so muttering didn’t do much to hide one’s words from them. Stonequest clenched his jaw at her comment, Heartsbane laughed, and Emerald merely looked uncomfortable.

  It was Lumos who spoke. “What we’re doing is not…uh, bullshit, Lady Steel.” It was obvious from the way he said the word that it was one he wasn’t familiar with.

  “Really? Because that’s what it feels like. Our most recent mission was to escort treasure. Harandhyl wasn’t even there.”

  “If we hadn’t escorted that treasure, the people who hurt Heartsbane would have had access to a ton more resources,” Emerald pointed out.

  “So you admit it was people who shot Heartsbane?” Although it was Emerald who had spoken, she directed the question to Stonequest.

  Heartsbane answered first, though. “Obviously it was people. There’s not a dragon alive who can fire a gun from a moving motorcycle.”

  “A dragon could have ordered that strike. I’m sure that’s the focus of the investigation,” Stonequest argued, although he didn’t sound like his heart was in it.

  “And what about the mission before that?” Kristen countered, not intentionally meaning to keep him off balance but not wanting him to think he’d won any part of the argument either.

  “We saved people on that one,” Emerald said.

  “Yeah, as an aside. I thought we would save a town from two destructive dragons but it became obvious very quickly that the real goal was to break up the fight.”

  “If we hadn’t have stopped that fight, more people would have died,” Stonequest said.

  “Sure. Yes, I can see that, but there don’t seem to be any actual consequences for the dragons who did the damage.”

  “They’ll pay millions—”

  “Which I’m sure they can afford.” She cut Stonequest off brusquely. “I guess…I guess that when I signed up, I thought I’d make a real difference in the world—in the worlds, really. I thought I’d bring justice to dragons and humans. Now, it feels like I did more of that as a human SWAT team member than here as a dragon.”

  Stonequest cleared his throat and tried to adopt his most reassuring expression, “You are making a difference. I know it may not feel like it, but these are the actions that must be taken to maintain the stability that humans and dragons need. If we’d gon
e in and aggressively confronted those two dragons who fought in the city, we could have had hundreds or even thousands killed in the flames. This way, only—” He glanced at Emerald.

  “Twenty-two people.”

  “This way, only twenty-two people died. Surely that’s better than simply letting dragons run amok. And with the escort mission, yes, I’ll admit that seemed like bullshit at the start, but it ended up being a serious raid. If you’re right about a group of humans hunting dragons, it was absolutely essential that we stopped them from acquiring more resources.”

  She looked at Stonequest and shook her head. “But did I need to be there for any of that? You could’ve handled the battle without me. There’s no doubt about that one. And I guess I dispersed the bikers, but if I hadn’t had been there, do you really think you would have let them go?”

  “I was shot back there,” Heartsbane said. “I was shot and it hurt. If you hadn’t said something to Stonequest and Emerald, maybe one of us would have been killed.”

  Kristen nodded, even though she knew full well that the dragons could tell she wasn’t placated. The fact was that she had already faced humans armed with dragon bullets when she’d been with human SWAT. She’d been on a case that had been more important to her—stopping the people who’d tried to use her family as hostages—and had been closer to unraveling it than she was on Dragon SWAT.

  All she wanted was to protect the people she cared for. She wanted to be that person more than anything, but it felt like her time with Dragon SWAT wouldn’t allow her to be a person at all.

  “Look, I have paperwork to catch up on,” she said lamely and wandered out of the medical wing feeling dejected, worthless, and like her purpose wasn’t being fulfilled.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Butters poured himself a cup of coffee and checked his pork shoulder. It had been cooking all night—low and slow, exactly like his grandfather had said—and looked like it was about done. The outside looked damn good and the temperature inside was all right. He knew he should let it rest but he had to get to work and he also needed to know if it was as good as the one the dragon Lumos had made.

  He tested it with a fork and the meat parted effortlessly under the slightest pressure as he pulled a small piece out. It still dripped with fat as the meat hadn’t yet had time to reabsorb the juices and he put it in his mouth. It was damn good. Better than the dragon’s, in fact, and he grinned.

  Hernandez had talked about a rematch against Dragon SWAT on the airsoft range. He hadn’t really cared about all that, but now that he knew he could win in the smoked meats department, he was ready for another competition. Feeling a little smug even at the thought of culinary victory, he downed the remainder of his coffee and checked the time.

  Realizing he was now running late, he hurried to the door, paused to grab his cell phone—he’d almost left it on the shelf at the door—and stepped out into the predawn light.

  Before he could close the door behind him, a bullet streaked past his nose and into his apartment.

  Butters’ instincts kicked in and he rolled forward. An absolutely massive weeping willow grew beside the stream that ran outside the front of his apartment complex and the trunk was large enough to hide even his girth. It was one of the reasons he’d stayed in this apartment. The leafy cover of the tree’s canopy gave the sniper some sense of protection.

  But whoever had shot at him had seen through the bright yellow-green flush of springtime growth.

  Butters pressed his back up against the tree and was able to feel the shots from the sniper as they pelted the far side of the trunk. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. All were delivered a few seconds apart like whoever used the gun was able to do so as easily as he could breathe. He knew he couldn’t move. If he stepped out from behind the tree, the shooter would have no problem finding a target.

  The bullets stopped, probably so the marksman could reload or move to get a better angle. Butters knew that if it was the second, he’d have some time. There was only one apartment block across the street where this guy could be shooting from. He had been a sniper for years and feeling that first shot streak past his face and drill into the floor of his apartment was enough to tell him the rough direction of the gunman. If the asshole wanted to kill him, he’d have to go down six flights of stairs, then a few blocks over, and up another four flights.

  Thankful that he’d grabbed his cellphone as he was leaving for once instead of having to go back for it like he usually did, he called Drew.

  Despite the early hour, his boss didn’t sound surprised or groggy. Knowing him and his own obsessions, he was probably at the gym. “What’s up, Butters? Did you burn your apartment down with another pork shoulder?”

  “I am under attack. Some Yankee sonofabitch is across the street with a damn sniper rifle and has me pinned down.”

  “Can you get to cover?” He could hear Drew moving, no doubt springing into action. It was good to have friends like him.

  “I already am. Do you know that willow tree in front of my place?”

  “Of course.”

  “That’s where I am. I reckon I have maybe six minutes before this guy repositions.”

  “We’ll be there in five,” the team leader replied.

  “Make it four. This guy could either move or stay where he is, I suppose. If I guess wrong, he’s got me. No doubt about that.”

  “We’ll be there.” Drew hung up.

  A minute later, Butters heard sirens wailing down the street.

  In another fifteen seconds, a SWAT van stopped with a squeal of tires and almost drove into the willow despite it being on the grass. The door slid open and Keith slid out with a bulletproof vest for Butters. He helped him get it on and together, they ran to the van. Hernandez was inside and looked freaked out for once.

  “Where’s Beanpole?” Butters demanded. All these people were his team, but Beanpole was his partner. He’d be damned if something had already happened to him.

  “He went with the other SWAT van,” Drew said.

  “Now why’d he go and do a fool thing like that?” he demanded and the tone of his voice sounded like the southerner who’d been raised in a Baptist church that he was.

  “He does look out for snipers, so he said he’d be the best person to find this asshole and deal with him,” Drew said and tried not to grin.

  “The dude was pissed,” Keith added and his grin broadened.

  The radio hissed to life with Beanpole’s voice. “We found the site of the shooter. At least I believe we did. There are no casings or anything, but it smells like gunpowder and there are scratches from where a bipod was mounted.”

  “Are we clear?” the team leader asked.

  “Oh yes,” Beanpole replied. “I sent police to the other two buildings that might be able to get a bead on Butters’ front door. They’re making a ruckus on the top floors and haven’t found a thing. We’re clear.”

  “Do you want to go see if we can recover any evidence from this willow?” Drew asked.

  Butters nodded. He’d felt those seven shots through the tree. Not one had hit the ground or gone wide.

  They stepped from the safety of the SWAT van. This was always a harrowing moment for him, to go from known safety to danger merely by taking a single step. He’d once thought that he’d become accustomed to it over the years, but it still set his heart racing every time. He was cool as a cucumber in actual combat, but once the all-clear had been sounded and he was no longer supposed to hide behind his rifle, he became as nervous as hell.

  It turned out there was good reason to be worried about the gunman this time.

  He and Drew went around to the other side of the willow tree to examine the spread of the shots.

  Butters had been worried about a tight little circle or maybe a bullet hole or two that had overlapped. What he saw was far more terrifying.

  The sniper had drawn a smiley face on the tree trunk with a bullet hole for each eye and another five in an unmistakable
smile.

  Drew cleared his throat, obviously freaked. “That’s…”

  “That’s damn near impossible,” he finished for him. “It means the first shot wasn’t a miss, either.”

  “The first shot?”

  “When I stepped out the door, the sniper damn near gave me a shave, the bullet was so close. I assumed it was a miss, but if they could draw a picture with bullets at that range, hell, he shouldn’t have missed.”

  “Do you think it was some kind of warning?” Drew asked.

  “What was?” Hernandez stepped from the van.

  Butters pointed at the smiley face on the tree. “I should be dead. Tell me I shouldn’t.”

  “That makes two of us,” she said, her face white.

  “What are you talking about?” their boss asked.

  “Last night, I got home to find that some kind of explosive device had been rigged to my door,” she said. Butters knew she was serious because she hadn’t cursed once.

  “Why the fuck didn’t you say anything sooner?” Drew demanded.

  “That’s why you showed up at my place last night?” Keith also sounded surprised.

  “It wasn’t actually a bomb so it was fine.” She shrugged. “Someone had taken one of my little experiments and rigged it with glitter.”

  “I thought you’d gone to a strip club,” Keith said and gestured at her face. It was indeed sparkly.

  “I thought it was a joke. I didn’t think it was funny, of course, because glitter’s never funny, but now, well…”

  “This isn’t a joke,” Butters said. “We were targeted by someone with a sick sense of humor.”

  “And who knows I like explosives and you’re a sniper,” Hernandez said.

  “We might all be in danger.” Drew pulled his phone out.

  “Yeah, but the whole team is right here. Who are you calling?” the sniper asked.

  “Kristen. It seems like when the shit hits the fan, the Steel Dragon’s always involved.”

  Chapter Forty

  When Kristen was awakened by a call from Drew telling her that someone might have targeted her and her old team, it was almost a relief. They’d already placed some kind of explosive at Hernandez’s place and used a sniper rifle against Butters, although both of them were fine. Finally, action was needed. She knew what to do when faced with this kind of threat. She stepped out of her apartment, transformed into a dragon, and flew to SWAT HQ, remaining high above the city so as to avoid potential sniper fire.