Liberation Day - A Thorn Byrd Novel

by Dustin Stevens

It appeared Nio had not stopped pacing since Thorn left. He practically jumped the moment the front door opened and Thorn entered, a ball of frenetic energy.

  ”Marc Tallo turned on his own,” Nio said without preamble. “Holy shit.”

  “Been doing some reading?” Thorn asked, not commenting on Nio’s opening line.

  “Everything your guy sent over,” Nio said, gesturing to the computer. “Should I read anything into that fresh blood on your shirt?”

  Grabbing the shirt by the collar, Thorn pulled it over his head, examining the neck, finding two nickel-sized spots of dried blood on the royal blue material. “That son of a bitch.”

  “Tallo?” Nio asked, his face twisted up a bit.

  “No,” Thorn said, eschewing going into the entire tale. “These were the good guys, actually.”

  A disbelieving look fell over Nio’s features, though he remained silent.

  “They’re going to help me get inside that monstrosity,” Thorn said. “That’s all that matters right now.”

  Without further explanation Thorn began moving through the house and grabbing things he’d need. He pulled out a black long-sleeve Dri-Fit shirt and a pair of black cargo pants, followed by a matching ski cap. Every step of the way Nio was on his heels, Abby just inches behind.

  “So you fed them Tallo in exchange for their cooperation?”

  “More or less,” Thorn said, pulling the shirt on over his head. “At first they were more than a little skeptical, but after a few phone calls, they accepted I was telling the truth.”

  “And were pissed?”

  “To put it mildly,” Thorn said. He took up the cargo pants and hefted them in his hands a moment, remembering on sight all the times he’d been forced to wear something similar in the navy. With a twist of the head he cast them aside, instead cinching the drawstring on his gym shorts a bit tighter. “They agreed to get me inside and I agreed to hand him over.”

  Just saying it aloud, Thorn knew how close he had come to striking out. If Tallo was the only goal they would have targeted their efforts there, leaving him on his own to approach the sprawling estate. His saving grace was the damage that whoever lived there had already done to their enterprises at the docks.

  “When do we leave?” Nio asked, taking a cue from Thorn and pulling on his own shoes. Left with just the clothes he’d been wearing earlier in the afternoon, he looked down at his board shorts and t-shirt before shrugging.

  “We?” Thorn asked, stopping by the front counter. For a moment he looked at Abby, contemplating if he should make any special arrangements for her should things go sideways. Just as fast he dismissed the notion, knowing Ingram would take care of it if need be.

  Instead, he looked at Nio standing across from him, his arms crossed.

  “Tallo is just a bit player, nothing more than a foothold at the docks,” Thorn said. “Whoever is pulling the strings is powerful and ruthless. He’s already killed untold numbers and has an army of henchmen armed to do more of the same.”

  “She’s my sister,” Nio said, staring back at him.

  Heat began to creep up Thorn’s back, his scalp starting to prickle with sensation. “Which is why I set this thing up, to go in after her.”

  “She’s my sister,” Nio repeated.

  Pulling in a long breath of air, Thorn leveled his gaze on Nio. He had only just met him a week before, knew next to nothing about his background.

  “And?” Thorn asked, his voice angrier than he really felt, wanting Nio to get the hint. “I have been in the navy for the past six years. I have training, experience. What do you have?”

  Fire passed behind Nio’s eyes as he stared back, incredulous. “Revenge.”

  “Absolutely not,” Thorn said, turning his back to Nio and opening his laptop. In a quick flurry of buttons, he pulled the video conference system to life, Ingram appearing on screen just moments later.

  “Talk to me,” Ingram said, his attention aimed to the side, clearly distracted.

  “We’re going live in an hour,” Thorn said. “Turner and Cardoza are assembling men as we speak, I’m leaving here shortly.”

  The information got Ingram’s attention, his body swiveling to face forward. “What are we talking here? Full-on assault?”

  “By land and sea both would be my guess,” Thorn said, “but I don’t know yet. Depends how many men they scratch together.”

  A low, sharp whistle slid from Ingram as he stared back at Thorn. “Listen, Thorn, this being your first outing and all...”

  It was clear where the admonishment was going, Thorn cutting him off halfway through. “Coach, this is far from my first outing.”

  “You know what I mean,” Ingram replied.

  “And so do you,” Thorn said.

  A moment of silence passed as the two stared at each other, Ingram eventually nodding in concession. “This afternoon I fed those images you sent me into Interpol. Three hours ago, they started popping up all over the globe.”

  For the past hour Thorn had been so intent on the impending invasion it took a moment for the information to register. Once it did, he leaned forward and pressed his palms into the counter, forcing pieces into place.

  “Where?”

  “England, Italy, France,” Ingram rattled off. “And those are just so far. My guess is there could be more. Only a fraction of the guys you sent over are accounted for.”

  “Shit,” Thorn muttered. “They must have left right after we saw them.”

  “That’s probably why you spotted them,” Ingram countered. “They were loading up.”

  “Any idea what that could mean?” Thorn said. “Anything unusual going on with the EU? C-STAD?”

  Already Ingram’s attention was back on the screen without looking into the camera, his fingers dancing over the keyboard. “Nothing I’m finding so far, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there.”

  The movement continued a moment longer before Ingram stopped, his expression grim as he glanced up into the camera. “I don’t suppose there’s any way you can do some looking around while you’re in there too, can you?”

  Chapter Forty-Eight