Act of Command: An Immortal Ops World Novel (PSI-Ops / Immortal Ops Book 4)

by Mandy M. Roth

  The guard left and Ezra grabbed Alice’s arm. “Alice, you need to listen to Brad. Caesar isn’t responding to my calls, and with what Felix ordered, I know something bad has happened to him.” He looked to Brad. “Alice, I’m going to trust Brad to get you out of here.”

  She stiffened.

  Ezra kept his gaze on Brad. “I’m unlocking you. Can I trust you with her?”

  “I’m not leaving this place without Mae,” said Alice, her stubbornness showing.

  Ezra held her firmly. “An operative I trust is with her. I need to get there and make sure he’s come out of the drugs given to him before any of these assholes decide to start the killings with him. The two of you need to get out. If Felix has Caesar, he’ll find a way to break him. It’s what he does. Caesar is strong, but not that strong.”

  Brad moved to the door of his cell and waited. It opened and Ezra was there, holding Alice. He thrust the woman at Brad. “Take her and go.”

  Alice huffed.

  Ezra snatched the glasses from her hand. “Mae will need these.”

  “I’m not leaving without my friend,” pressed Alice, her temper showing.

  Brad and Ezra locked gazes and there was no question of what had to be done. If Brad didn’t get Alice out of the place, she’d be killed. He wasn’t going to allow that to happen. Bending, he grabbed her and flung her over his shoulder, the smell of her washing over him, exciting his shifter side as well as the man.

  She shouted and hit at his back with her tiny fists. “Put me down!”

  He swatted her backside and she yelped. “Silence, woman. I’m getting you out of here.”

  Ezra nodded and then pointed in the opposite direction. “Left, right and then two lefts. An exit is there. I have a safe house not far from here.” He gave the address and then cast a worried look at Alice.

  “Copy that,” said Brad, moving quickly with Alice over his shoulder. He wasn’t far when sirens went off, hurting his sensitive hearing. He winced and had to set Alice down for a moment to gather his bearings. He feared she might run or try to rip his nuts off too.

  She eased closer to him. “Brad?”

  He swayed, the pain in his head great. Whatever the Corporation had done had intensified all his shifter aspects. The alarms felt as if they were loud enough to pierce his eardrums.

  Alice was suddenly there, her hands over his ears, her face before his. The woman was stunning. Her gaze locked on his and it was if she was turning down the volume around them. He knew better. Knew she couldn’t be, but still, her presence helped him gain control.

  She gasped and twisted. As she did, Brad realized they were no longer alone and the men descending upon them were not friendlies. With a roar, he pulled Alice behind him protectively and went at the guards. They rammed him with a shock stick. He’d been hit with them before. They were charged with volts of electricity. Enough to drop a shifter male. But Brad was no ordinary shifter male and he wasn’t about to let them near Alice.

  He swung and knocked one off his feet. His charger dropped and Alice grabbed it, jabbing it at the man nearest her. Brad twisted, expecting the little minx to light him up too. She didn’t. She touched under his nose and came away with blood.

  He couldn’t worry about his body right now or how long it would hold up. He had to get her out. He grabbed her free hand and spun, following the path Ezra had told him to take. They made it several more paces before gunfire erupted. Brad threw Alice against the wall, shielding her, taking a couple of bullets.

  He winced but didn’t go down. He couldn’t. He had to get the woman to safety.

  My woman, he thought.

  The bullets continued and he felt the smallest of pinches in his legs and side. Ignoring the pain, he looked down at the redhead pinned to the wall to be sure she was safe.

  He was about to ask when the compound rocked, the telltale sound of grenades sounding. Brad seized the moment to yank Alice from the wall and rush her down the hall, taking the last turn Ezra had told him would lead to freedom.

  “You’re bleeding!” yelled Alice a second before heat swelled around them.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Striker nodded as Malik threw up the hand signal to enter the compound. Boomer tossed a flash grenade and the men went in hard, weapons out, ready to drop anyone who got between them and their teammate. It had taken them a bit to catch Corbin’s scent near the docks. His SUV was nowhere to be found. Once they’d caught the faint scent of their captain, the men had combined their tracking skills and figured out quickly that Corbin had engaged the enemy and had killed a few from the looks of the blood on the scene. From there, they’d tracked Corbin’s scent to the building they were now breaching.

  Malik went first, and the men took turns, securing a spot, giving the signal to advance to the next man and so forth. Bounding forward, a well-oiled unit, having done similar insertions too many times to count in their long careers together. Within seconds they met with resistance and dealt with it accordingly.

  Malik took down the first threat and Striker handled the next. Boomer slid up next to him and grinned as he held another grenade. The werepanther had too much love of anything that exploded. He probably should have seen a professional about it.

  He threw it down the hall and laughed as it exploded, sending more of the enemy scattering out like rats. Boomer smiled. “Like fish in a barrel.”

  “You worry me,” said Striker, shaking his head.

  Malik glanced over his shoulder, his dark gaze landing on them both. “Imagine how I feel with the two of you at my back.”

  Boomer and Striker shared a look and flashed wide smiles, making Malik groan. He motioned to the split in the hall ahead. “I’ll go in search of the woman and any other captives.”

  Striker nodded. They’d cover more ground split up, and each was armed enough to deal with just about anything. Besides, this was hardly their first mission. “I’ll find the captain and whoever else may be near him.”

  Boomer grinned. “I’ll set charges to blow this place when we’re done. Twenty minutes, okay?”

  “Och, we do nae need twenty minutes.”

  Malik grunted. “Give us twenty minutes.”

  “Sounds good!” yelled Boomer as he ran off, looking far too excited to get to level the place.

  Malik headed in the other direction, grinning, enjoying himself far too much. Striker moved through the halls, killing any guard who tried to stand between him and his objective—his captain.

  He inhaled, catching the scent of something that burned his nose and throat. He heard it then, the sound of a really pissed-off lion roaring. Wasting no time, Striker ran in the direction of the sounds, already knowing who the lion was.

  Corbin.

  And he sounded fucking livid.

  Striker made it to a set of doors that were pried open. Greenish smoke filtered out of the room and he coughed. He didn’t exactly want to enter the room with whatever it was in the air, but he knew without a doubt his friend was in there and needed help.

  Malik came around the corner from the other end of the hall, his weapon out, his gaze locking on Striker. “I couldn’t find any signs of prisoners in that direction. Did I hear the captain’s roar?”

  “Aye,” said Striker with a nod. He tipped his head towards the pried open door. Smoke continued to come out of it. “He’s in there. Whatever that is in there, it burns to breathe in.”

  “Captain is still alive so it won’t kill us,” added Malik, though his expression said he wasn’t so sure. “You want to take the lead?”

  “Thanks,” said Striker dryly, taking point. He moved in, crouching down, his eyes burning as he did. He spent a fair amount of time around Mercy in the labs back at headquarters and had accidently started a number of lab incidents, so he was familiar with safety protocols. Twisting, he put his hand out, feeling around the wall for anything that was like the lab at headquarters. When he found a series of buttons, hit them all. One would probably work. He hoped.


  In an instant the room was bathed in some liquid that didn’t smell like water as it poured down from a sprinkler system. Exhaust fans kicked on and the fumes dissipated slowly, revealing Corbin there in the center of the huge room, partially shifted, his hands and face bloodied.

  Malik came up short behind Striker. “Dear Gods.”

  They’d seen Corbin do partial shifts before. They weren’t caught off guard by that. It was the pure red in his eyes. The raw, feral look on his face. He was in the throes of bloodlust, and that was bad.

  Very bad.

  There were guards all over in the room. Most of them were dead. The ones left standing looked scared shitless of what they were witnessing.

  Malik lifted his weapon and aimed at a guard. Striker glanced to the side of the room, past a mound of broken glass and spotted a crumpled pile on the floor. It took him a minute to realize the pile was a woman. Not just any woman. The one from the pictures he’d seen in the dorm room.

  Mae.

  He pushed on the end of Malik’s weapon, forcing him to lower it. “No. Look. ‘Tis his woman there. Do nae take his kills. This is his right.”

  Malik looked in the direction Striker was pointing and gasped. “We’re not going to be able to pull him back from this.”

  “Shut up and do nae draw his attention to us just yet.”

  “Did you find him?” yelled Boomer, entering from behind, pulling Corbin’s gaze to them. There was no recognition in their captain’s red eyes. He saw everything around him as a threat and he’d kill everyone if given the chance.

  Boomer drew to a fast stop. “Sweet fucking hell. He did all this?”

  Malik motioned to the woman on the floor. “Look.”

  Boomer stiffened and then tipped his head. “Listen. Do you hear it?”

  Corbin went at a guard near him, slicing the man’s throat.

  Striker glanced at Boomer. “Hear what?”

  “A heartbeat.” Boomer pointed to the woman.

  Malik gasped. “He’s right. The woman lives.”

  “I do nae think he knows as much,” said Striker, his gaze on Corbin. “Anyone want to tell him?”

  Boomer bit his inner cheek. “Rock, scissors, paper?”

  Malik groaned. “We’re a bit old for that.”

  “Fine. I call not it,” added Boomer quickly.

  Malik shook his head. “Me either.”

  “I’m nae goin’ near him. You two do it,” said Striker to Boomer. “Yer cat shifters. You all can meow together or somethin’. Chase yarn balls or whatever it is you lot do. Scratch your claws on furniture. I do nae know what tickles you all.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out lint. “Probably nae enough for him to want to chase from the end of a string is it?”

  Boomer looked at Corbin as the captain lifted a guard off the ground and yanked the man in half, letting each half fall to the floor with a loud thud. “I think we might be past the meow and yarn ball stage of things.”

  “Most certainly,” added Malik.

  “What about a cardboard box?” asked Striker. “Yer kind likes to play in boxes, don’t they?”

  Boomer groaned. “We’re not house cats, dumbass. Do you like to be put on a leash and taken for a walk?”

  Striker rubbed his beard and thought about being tied up by a hot woman and then lead around. “Aye. I do.”

  “Asshole.”

  Striker stepped back. “I left the dart gun in the SUV.”

  Boomer shook his head, his gaze never leaving Corbin as the captain killed another guard. “We’re gonna need a bigger dart gun.”

  “Aye.”

  Corbin tore through another guard as if the man were tissue paper. Striker, Malik and Boomer took large steps back, none wanting to be on the receiving end of their boss’s wrath.

  Boomer grunted. “I forgot to mention I set charges.”

  Malik and Striker turned very slowly to look at their friend. Malik spoke. “Tell me you went with twenty minutes. Nothing less.”

  Boomer pursed his lips. “So you want me to lie?”

  “How long do we have?” asked Striker.

  Boomer glanced at his watch as a series of large bangs went off. The entire compound shook, and Striker’s ears rang. Flames rushed down the hall in his direction. Groaning, he hit Boomer and knocked the man to the lab floor. Malik turned and Striker wasn’t fast enough to grab him too. The blast hit Malik, knocking him backwards. Flames rolled over everyone and then sucked backwards.

  Striker looked up. “Malik?”

  “Ouch,” said Malik, indicating he was alive.

  “Shit, did Corbin notice us?” asked Boomer from under Striker.

  Striker glanced in the other direction slowly to find Corbin, still in partially shifted form, blood dripping from his claws and mouth. He was breathing heavy, his head tipped to the side, looking at the men like they were lunch. “Aye.”

  “Shit.”

  “Aye.” Striker swallowed hard and put his hands up, still on Boomer. “Captain, you do nae want to eat us. We’re friendlies. And Boomer is full of silver. He’d cause indigestion.”

  “Thanks,” said Boomer.

  “No problem, but you should know, if he comes for us, I’m throwin’ you to him.”

  Boomer chuckled. “I’d rather be eaten alive than stay under you longer. Dude, that had better be a fucking gun in your pocket.”

  “Och, it’s a clip. I’ve no hard-on for you, kitty,” snapped Striker, rolling off Boomer slowly, his gaze never leaving the real threat—Corbin. He started to push off the floor, but Corbin roared.

  Malik grumbled, rolling to his side. “Captain.”

  Corbin roared again.

  Striker stayed low. “Alrighty then. I’ll be stayin’ here. Though, I’d like to check on the lass. She looks like she needs help. She’s still alive, Brit. Her heart still beats. She needs assistance, nae this. Nae you behavin’ like a bloody fool.”

  Corbin’s brows met and for the briefest of seconds, Striker thought he saw a flicker of his friend in there. That meant there was still hope.

  The woman on the floor moved slightly, drawing Corbin’s attention. Fearful that Corbin would hurt her with the bloodlust controlling him, Striker leapt up and rushed to the woman, putting himself in front of her. “You do nae want to hurt her!”

  She coughed several times and touched the back of Striker’s leg. “W-what happened? Who are you? Where is Corbin?”

  He chanced a glance at the woman. Sure, Corbin was partially shifted, but it was easy enough to tell it was the Brit. Was the female daft?

  She squinted up at him. “You’re really hairy.”

  “Och, look at him. He’s more so.” He pointed to Corbin. “He’s partially shifted for cryin’ out loud. And before you ask, I’m nae French.”

  “French?” She glanced in Corbin’s direction, squinting more. “C-Corbin, is that you? What happened? Why am I on the ground? Ouch, my chest burns. Before you yell, I didn’t touch any more chemicals.”

  “Lass, quiet. He’s nae himself. My guess is, he thought you were dead,” said Striker, trying to keep Corbin’s attention off her.

  She tugged on Striker’s leg, using it to help her stand. Each time she made contact with Striker, Corbin looked more and more lethal. She stood and swayed. Striker caught her with one arm and held up his other. “Corbin, look. She’s nae dead. See. Safe and sound.”

  The woman touched Striker’s chest. “What’s wrong with him? Is he hurt? Ohmygod, did he get shot?”

  “Aye, he did, but I do nae think it bothered him much.”

  She shrieked. “He’s shot? Corbin?”

  Boomer held his hands up, staying near the entrance to the lab. “Striker, I don’t think she can see him.”

  “Lass, can you nae see?”

  She locked gazes with him. “My glasses are in my cell. Why isn’t he answering me? Corbin?”

  Striker kept an arm around her, steadying her, knowing he was tempting fate by making contact with her. She needed h
is help. Corbin would just have to kill him for it. “Lass, he’s been shot, but in his state of mind he’s nae thinkin’ clearly. He’s worried for you. Nothin’ else.”

  She cupped her mouth and squinted in the direction Corbin stood. “Corbin, please. I’m scared. I need to know you’re okay.”

  Corbin shook and then bent his head, his upper body heaving. He slumped, and then when he righted himself Striker watched in stunned awe as Corbin managed to pull himself back from the throes of bloodlust. Back from the point of no return. It was a testament to just how powerful the man was.

  “Mae?”

  She gasped and squeezed Striker’s hand. “Corbin?”

  The captain came for her quickly, but Striker shook his head. “Boss, yer hands and face.”

  Corbin paused and looked down, his eyes widening at the sight of all the blood and flesh.

  Boomer lowered his arms. “There is a sink over there.”

  Malik pushed off the floor. “I’m too old for this shit.”

  He turned to face Striker and Striker froze. Laughter bubbled up from within and he was unable to hold it in at the sight of one of his best friends with no eyebrows to speak of. “It would appear the flames were nae kind to you, Tut.”

  “What?” asked Malik.

  Boomer glanced at the man and then looked up at the ceiling, doing his best to keep a straight face. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

  “What did you do?” demanded Malik.

  Boomer put his hands in his front pockets and whistled, still looking up at the ceiling.

  Corbin appeared again, mostly blood free. He reached for Mae and Striker helped to steady her as Corbin pulled her against him. He shook and held her as if she were the single most important thing in all the world to him. He kissed her temple and looked at Striker, mouthing “thank you”.

  “Aye.”

  There was another boom and the building rocked. Striker looked to Boomer. He shook his head. “That wasn’t me.”

  There was a commotion and Striker turned to the entrance to the lab and spotted a man he’d not seen in decades. “Ezra?”