Phoenix Rising

by Corrina Lawson

  “Not this one.” Try jazzed. Hot. Incinerating.

  “The shrink get to you?” Daz leaned forward. The dim light made his brown face appear darker than normal. “Dammit, you’re grinning.”

  “I’m not.” Alec thought of Beth’s legs wrapped around his hips, his erection pressing against his pants. If he’d kept going, she wouldn’t have stopped him. She’d been as into it as he had. “Beth came to talk to me right before I left. Got me thinking, that’s all.”

  There was a snort from the other side of the van.

  “She mess with you?” Gabe fiddled with the radio in his helmet. His long fingers made short work of some adjustment.

  “Mess with him? I bet that’s what he wanted,” Daz said.

  Alec choked back a laugh. She’d wanted him. Finally, he’d gotten under her skin. Now he needed to get under her clothes.

  “Spill.” Daz poked him in the ribs, not that he could feel it under the body armor.

  Alec dropped his head, feeling his face flush. What was he, twelve and looking at his first naked photos? Daz was only teasing to pass time and keep everyone mellow.

  “That kind of send-off?” Daz asked, voice filled with amusement. “No wonder the old man was uptight. He hates you playing around with the staff.”

  “She’s not staff. She’s from outside. And Lansing hates a lot of things I do lately.” Alec shrugged. “It was only one kiss.”

  “So instead of the shrink screwing with you, you’re screwing the shrink?” Gabe grinned.

  The team laughed. Several more shouted suggestions on what else he could do with the shrink. At least one suggestion was anatomically impossible. Or so he’d thought. Alec tried to picture Beth in that position. Hey, he could use the TK with her. He didn’t have to hide it, like with the girls he’d met through F-Team.

  I could find out what the TK could really do.

  He sat back and let the teasing roll over him, running positions in his head, picturing her reaction. Beth was so little, almost child-size. But there had been nothing tiny or child-like about that kiss. She was definitely a woman. No wonder his fire took on a mind of its own for a second back there. He’d better squelch that next time. A room on fire wouldn’t do much for their sex life.

  And there would be a next time and it would be more than one kiss.

  Unethical, my ass.

  The van started to slow.

  “Okay, team, check through the equipment one more time. Full stealth mode. Gabe, you stay with Firefly until we set up a perimeter. Our target’s the warehouse closest to the dock. At least, so the intel says. We know how wrong that can be.”

  “Damn straight,” Jimmy said.

  “It’s not an excuse to screw this up. Got it?”

  “Got it,” Jimmy mumbled.

  Maybe Daz had had enough of Jimmy’s attitude too. The rest of the team nodded.

  “Remember, complete radio silence,” Daz said. “We can’t chance being picked up by anyone. Only I can break it or give orders to break silence. Got it?”

  Alec nodded with the rest.

  The back doors to the van opened to darkness. The smell of the sea, mingled with oil fumes, flooded into Alec’s nostrils. The only discernible noise was the distant lap of waves against the docks.

  The team lowered their infrared goggles over their eyes and filed out in silence, leaving him and Gabe for last. Daz gestured with his hand to the team. They split up into two groups, five each, one headed right, one to the left. The only sound was the quiet slap of their boots.

  Alec rolled his shoulders and centered himself, closing his eyes to call the TK. Gabe would watch out for him. That was the deal. F-Team protected him physically, he took care of them his way. Since he was hanging back, Alec had time to go deep with the TK. He took several long breaths, forcing himself into something resembling a trance, and unleashed his TK, the energy flowing out of his body like an unseen hand.

  It was exactly like fumbling in the dark for a light switch. Likely he wouldn’t hit anything. But the TK could go faster than F-Team could walk and he might find their targets first, save time, maybe save lives.

  Dark, black, empty. Nothing.

  Not helpful. He gritted his teeth and went deeper. Wait, something moving but he couldn’t get how big it was. Damn. A hand shook his shoulder. He opened his eyes.

  “Time to move. Follow me,” Gabe said.

  They walked in the darkness. Five steps, listen. Another five steps, listen again. He winced at the sound of his own footsteps, much louder than Gabe’s quiet tread. He’d improved over the past two years but he wasn’t up to Gabe’s level yet. If he wanted command, he would have to get better.

  Gabe held his M-4 carbine with ease, despite the fact he looked more like a scarecrow than a soldier. Alec only carried a handgun. He left the rifle in the van. Something that bulky would slow him down tonight.

  This would be much easier if he could just light up the sky with fire but, no, stealth mode.

  I hate stealth mode. C’mon, let’s get this started.

  Gabe stopped. Alec studied the area again. Long, large warehouses loomed over them on both sides, all the way to the edge of the piers. Metal shipping containers as big as his apartment were stacked outside the warehouses and even on the docks. Cranes and other heavy equipment used for loading and unloading hovered above them, silent.

  There were a ton of places for their targets to hide. Recon would have helped but there hadn’t been time.

  Likely, Daz was weighing whether to go into one of the warehouses or hunker down and wait to spot their targets in the open.

  Movement flashed out of the corner of Alec’s eye. A small shape. He reached out his hand, to grab it with the TK. Gabe raised the M-4.

  The shape meowed.

  Alec relaxed and dropped his hand back to his waist. Gabe lowered his carbine and tapped him on the forearm. They started walking again.

  “We should have found them by now,” Alec whispered.

  Gabe nodded. “Yeah. F-Team’s moving forward ten yards at a time. We’ll go all the way to the dock, then backtrack until we’ve got something.”

  That was standard procedure with unknown target locations. Alec nodded. They edged closer and closer to the docks. The sea smell grew stronger. They stopped again. Impatient, Alec sent his TK rolling forward and bumped right into F-Team, almost slapping Daz’s helmet.

  A docked tugboat, with its running lights on, came into view at the end of the third pier.

  “Damn,” Gabe whispered.

  Fuck it. Alec pushed his night goggles up. Intelligence had said nothing about having to deal with a water transfer. The cell must have sensed discovery and moved. Shit, F-Team didn’t have water back-up.

  But they had him.

  Alec closed his eyes, concentrated and surrounded the tug with his TK like an invisible hand, to hold it in place.

  It was too big to hold for long. Crap.

  The tug bounced in the waves, making it harder to control. The engine revved in neutral. Once it shifted into gear, Alec doubted he could hold on to it. A wave splashed against the tug, sending it bouncing higher, and Alec lost hold.

  If he were closer, he could grab the bridge controls and shut down the engine. A bad idea from this distance. He could easily hit full throttle instead of stop. He couldn’t use the fire, either. If there was a bomb on board, that might set it off.

  Even without radioactive materials, that would make a hell of a mess.

  Fuck. I have to get closer. Now.

  The distinctive sound of machine gun fire rang out, along with the nastier sound of the bullets pinging off concrete.

  Sniper!

  He and Gabe scrambled for cover behind the nearest metal shipping container. Gabe was nodding, listening to whatever came through his radio. Things must be dire if Daz was breaking radio silence, even if only to quickly contact Gabe. “Came from above,” Gabe said. “Not sure where.”

  “Shit,” Alec said. If he used the TK to find
the sniper, he wouldn’t be able to grab the tug if it left the dock. If he used fire to locate the sniper, he’d light up the whole sky and the sniper would have a clear shot at F-Team too.

  “Screw the sniper,” Alec said. “I’m headed to the tug. The TK will keep the bullets off me.”

  “Don’t be stupid,” Gabe said. “There could be more than one sniper. You’d never see bullets from another direction in time. Let the team do their job.”

  Alec punched the container in frustration.

  Gabe spoke into the radio and nodded at the voice in his ear. “Okay, Firefly, Daz is going to get you an opening. You see it, you go. We’ll cover.”

  He nodded. F-Team would risk their lives for him. I hate that.

  Alec took a long breath, smelled his own sweat, the plastic tinge of the Kevlar armor encasing his chest and the salt of the ocean, all mixed with the smell from the bullets.

  The sound of heavy footfalls from F-Team rushing to the dock mingled with the tug’s engine noise. Terse, yelled instructions from Daz buzzed through Alec’s radio. Yes, things were not going well.

  Shots from above again.

  The crane.

  A muffled cry of pain. Someone hit the ground with a groan.

  Man down. Shit.

  Screw the tug.

  Alec threw the TK at the crane and bumped into the metal so hard that he stumbled. He braced himself against the shipping container for balance and fumbled up the crane with the TK. He found a foot, knees and then a rifle.

  Gotcha, you fucker.

  The tug’s motor roared. Alec swatted at the sniper, intending to knock him off his perch. The sniper braced himself and held steady.

  Screw subtle.

  Alec twisted his hand and loosed the fire, letting the energy flow out of him, twisting the air, agitating the sniper’s skin molecules until—

  The sniper’s face burst into flame.

  There was a horrific scream. A fireball in the shape of a man glowed at the top of the crane, fell, and hit the dock with a thud and a hiss. The fire spread outward from him.

  Alec took a deep breath, smelled the burning flesh and knew he should want to puke but all he could think was that the man deserved it. One of his team was down because of him. The fire rose around Alec, wanting to break free, responding to his joy at not being held back anymore.

  He reached out a hand and the flames flew to him, surrounding him, embracing him. He closed his eyes, feeling the heat, lost in it. This was more like it. Screw stealth mode.

  Gabe knocked his shoulder with a rifle butt. “Get the tug!”

  Right. Tug. Bomb. “Got it.” Alec sent the fire raging out from him, rising into the sky. The blaze flew up fast, almost without conscious effort. So easy.

  He held the fire over the tug, menacing it. Turn around, now, or I’ll burn you! He walked into the open for line of sight, letting the flames wrap around him.

  Several men on the tug shouted and surrounded a large, square container in the stern. Alec recognized Hans by the droopy eyes and potbelly. Hans motioned to the others on deck and pointed past the docks. The others calmed down and the tug started moving away again.

  The fire screamed at Alec, rolling into a ball of raging heat, wanting to consume what was in its path, more powerful than any fire he’d handled before. It wanted to incinerate the entire tug, including the bomb. But he had control. This is what he’d trained to do all his life.

  He created a wall of fire on the far side of the tug, trying to make it retreat. More shouting. Again, Hans calmed the others down and the boat kept moving. Alec had to let some of the fire spin away, lest it hit the bomb. They’d called his bluff. Shit.

  The tug chugged into the harbor, taking it farther from Alec’s range and closer to a big, shadowy shape out on the water. Another ship. No way he’d be able to stop the bigger ship if they loaded the bomb on it. Sweat poured down Alec’s neck and back. His breathing grew quicker, his eyesight blurrier from the smoke of the burning dock.

  Hans was the calm one. Get him and the rest would panic. Alec broke off a small ball of fire from the flames above the tug and sent it crashing into Hans’ chest.

  Hans screamed, stumbled backwards and fell into the water. Steam hissed and was quickly snuffed by a wave.

  The tug stopped moving, dead in the water. Yes!

  A shadow fell over the tug. Their pickup. The transfer wasn’t at the docks like intelligence said, it would be on the water. Kowalski, who’d berated them for their mission questions, had been wrong. If Daz didn’t go after the CIA fuck, Alec would.

  Daz yelled out loud. Alec ignored it. Daz’s voice buzzed in his ear from the radio. Alec tore off his helmet. Tears ran down his face from the smoke. His knees grew weak. The fire almost escaped from him, almost roared into the bomb.

  Dammit, I can control this. What was wrong with him? He knew better. He dropped to his knees and pushed the fire back to the tug’s bridge. Another man was yelling now. Alec saw the face illuminated in the firelight and recognized Demeter, the fanatic. He should crisp him too, but if he let the fire go even a little, he’d lose it completely. Hell.

  He raised a hand and created a roof of flame over the boat. There! Let them try to move the bomb with that there. He grinned, panic gone, and stood. He blinked and saw the flames around him had grown.

  They whispered to him, embraced him, until he was weightless, free, just like the fire. Nothing could hurt him, nothing could defeat him, especially not some second-rate terrorist cell.

  “Firefly!”

  I’m busy, Daz. Alec blinked and finally registered the twenty-foot wall of flames directly around him. The fire he’d created had joined with the flames from the sniper’s body and grown into an inferno.

  F-Team was trapped between the warehouse and a shipping container and the flames were closing in.

  They’d be incinerated.

  In the distance, a horn sounded, close to the tug. Fuck! Daz yelled his name again, voice more desperate. Okay, easy. Take control of both fires. He could finish the mission and save F-Team at the same time. Piece of cake.

  He spun around and around in the flames encircling him, pushing them upward, away from F-Team, sending them into the sky, where they’d have no fuel and would sputter out on their own. The metal of the crane above twisted and buckled from the intense heat.

  His throat felt like dust. Heat enclosed him, baking his skin. He shouldn’t have made it so damn hot without realizing it. He knew better. What the hell was wrong with him?

  He waved his hand. The flames around him started to sputter out. Good, F-Team was safe. The roof of flames above the tug disappeared.

  No, shit, he didn’t mean those flames. He reached out with his TK toward the boat. He felt something fuzzy, like a figurative cotton ball in the air. He had no idea what the hell that was.

  An explosion rocked the night air, splitting the tug in half. Alec fell face-forward to the dock. He spat out ashes, cursing. What had happened?

  The fire around him leapt high again, its flames a vivid blue color. He couldn’t have exploded the bomb on the tug—he’d been careful. So what the hell had done it?

  He pushed himself up with his arms, bit his lip and the fire around him stole the air from his lungs and took control of him.

  He closed his eyes, joined the flames, felt them rise up around him, like he was flying high with it, flying to the water, flying to consume that big ship out there. Who needed control?

  This was all he needed. He could be fire.

  A sharp pain stung his neck.

  He blinked and looked down. Tranquilizer dart? The fire engulfing him started to falter and die around him. No, he couldn’t lose the flames. He needed to fly.

  He looked up and saw Daz dimly through the smoke, aiming a rifle with a weird-looking barrel. He reached out and another dart stung his hand.

  He collapsed to the docks.

  Chapter Five

  “Congratulations. Demeter is still free. He has the fina
l dirty bomb components. Bonus: Hans Ulrich is dead and whatever brakes were on this cell are gone.” Kowalski crossed his beefy arms over his chest and glared at everyone in the briefing room. “Nice job.”

  Alec winced and looked down at the gray, colorless floor of the Resource’s briefing room. His fault. He’d screwed up so badly that Daz had to tranq him. He hadn’t lost control of the fire like that since he was fifteen.

  Now Demeter had the radioactive materials and a bomb to use with them. Jimmy was dead, shot through the eye by the sniper. And the explosion set off by the terrorists after transferring the radioactive materials to the larger ship had destroyed the tug and erased all clues.

  All because he had lost control of his fire.

  “We’re a specialized assault team.” Daz stood. “We took your intel and planned a land assault. It was a water transfer. The mistake is yours, spook.”

  “You have a man who can call fire on your team,” Kowalski said. “How the hell do you explain Demeter getting away?”

  I can’t control water, you asshole.

  Daz slammed his fist on the table. “Look, you wanted them so bad, you should have held up your end of the mission and provided the right intel. Because of you, we lost a man.”

  Kowalski clasped his hands behind his back. He glared at Alec. “I suggest you let us worry about the lapse in intel and concentrate on getting your shit together, Commander, before you lose more team members.”

  Alec snapped to his feet. He waved a hand, calling the TK, intending to slam Kowalski into the wall. Daz elbowed him, breaking his concentration.

  “Enough, Firefly,” Daz whispered.

  Alec sat back into his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. Okay, hitting Kowalski with the TK wasn’t a proportional response. He tried to remember what Beth had said to do when he got this angry. Distract yourself until you can think logically.

  He looked straight ahead but deliberately tried not to hear the remainder of Kowalski’s debriefing. He didn’t need to relive all that had gone wrong. He’d done that enough in his head over the last two days.

  Three enemy bodies recovered: Hans Ulrich, crisped and waterlogged, another cell member from the water, and the badly burned body of the sniper. Forensic people were looking at them for clues. Alec doubted they would find anything. No one had any explanation for that fuzziness he’d encountered just before the explosion either. Part of that was his fault, he couldn’t describe it properly because he’d never felt anything like that. Lansing had suggested stress had caused his TK to glitch. Alec didn’t believe that but he had no better explanation.