FALCON: Resistance (KBS Next Generation Book 1)

by Victoria Danann

  “That goes without saying,” Sin replied, “but there’s one that’s even more special. Right?”

  Wakey looked away, seeming self-conscious, which was totally out of character. “Okay. So there’s a girl I like a lot. Big deal. It happens to guys all the time. If things progress and we buy a house with a picket fence, I’ll send a memo ‘round.”

  “Let me know first and I’ll make sure it’s a good-looking memo,” Gretchen said. “Also, we have real estate contacts. For when you’re looking…”

  “Funny,” Wakenmann said. Looking between Kris and Gretchen, a mischievous gleam lit his eyes a split second before he said, “But I strongly suspect you may be shopping for a love nest first.”

  The attempt to cajole fell flat when Falcon said, “In our case, it’s more likely we’ll just ask for bigger quarters.”

  The other three members of K Team noted Gretchen’s answering smile that looked a lot like agreement.

  “Whoa!” Wakey said. “Hold the presses. My partner’s in love and I’m what? Like the last person to hear about it?” He started shaking his head. “No. No. No, my man. This shall not stand. You’ve seriously violated the bro code and there will be a penalty.”

  “Oh yeah?” Falcon played along. “And what’s the penalty?”

  Everybody at the table noted that neither of them denied the accusation of being in love.

  “You will name your first boy child Rolfe Carrell Wakenmann.”

  Falcon looked at Gretchen, who smiled and shook her head.

  “Survey says no,” Falcon told Wakey.

  “I can see a campaign will be required to get you to accept your penalty graciously.”

  “Good luck trying to wear her down,” Falcon said. “I got a feeling she’s not that easy to sway.”

  “You’re saying she’s not easy? You managed to snag her in what? Two dates?”

  “Well…”

  Gretchen chuckled. “You need to pay attention to your own love life, Wakenmann.”

  He huffed. “Paying attention to my love life is one of the things I do best.”

  “Yeah. You’re pretty good at keeping up with other people’s romances. I’ll bet if we traced the source of most rumors the trail would end at your mouth,” Sin said.

  Wakey gaped. “You wound me! And you do it deliberately which hurts even more. What have I ever done to you?”

  “Well…” Sin began.

  “Never mind. Let’s get back on topic, which is wedding plans for these two lovebirds.” Wakey was enjoying himself way too much.

  “We’ll keep you posted. Promise you’ll be the first to know about formal developments.”

  “I better be. I’m calling Best Man right now.”

  Gretchen shook her head at Falcon.

  “She says no. So ‘no’ it is,” Falcon said to Wakey.

  “No.” Gretchen laughed. “I wasn’t saying he’s unsuitable to function in the role of Best Man, and it’s not up to me anyhow. I was shaking my head at Wakey playing the fool.”

  “Oh,” Wakey threw his napkin down, “now you’ve hurt my feelings.”

  The other three guys threw their napkins at him.

  Later that night, or early the next morning depending on your point of view, Vlad called B Team to a building scheduled for renovation. The sign indicated that it was a posted construction site, completion scheduled for spring of the next year. The building was empty, but work hadn’t begun.

  When B Team arrived, Vlad said, “I’ve been watching a fairly steady stream of deadheads disappear into that building from the side entrance. I took a peek inside. It’s quiet. They may be nesting in the basement.”

  Storm nodded. “We might pick off a few if we hang here, but it would be smarter to wait until it gets light and send the airbot in for a look-see.”

  “Agree,” Kay said.

  Elora looked at Ram, who nodded. She looked at her watch. “We’ve got an hour. If we’re putting in overtime, let’s go get a coffee.” Looking at the vampire, she said, “Want to come with, Vlad?”

  Surprise registered in his expression. It seemed like a safe assumption that he wasn’t accustomed to being invited to socialize with humans. Or elves.

  “Well, I… alright.”

  “Good,” she said.

  “I like that bagel and kolache shop on 34th,” Ram said.

  She poked his ribs. “I know you do. If you don’t watch it, you’re going to sprout love handles.”

  He laughed. “That would be a shame ‘cause so happens I like your hands roamin’ all over the perfection that is my form.”

  She snorted, which made the vampire smile.

  An hour later the airbot silently zoomed around the basement of the proposed renovation site, recording images in infrared. B Team and Vlad the Vampire huddled together and watched on the screen of Kay’s phone as the airbot revealed hundreds of deadheads.

  Kay looked at Storm, who nodded and said, “Call it back. I’ll call it in.”

  Storm pulled out his phone and dialed Glen. “Got another one.”

  “Another one what?”

  “Big ass nest in a construction site on 34th. Vlad found it. The Edinburgh boys still here?”

  “Matter of fact they are.”

  “We’ve got good visual intel. Good idea about the airbot. Worked like a charm. Kay is sending you the stream. I’m sending you the location.”

  “How many?”

  “Don’t have a count, but hundreds.”

  There was a pause before Glen said. “This is huge. I think it’s time to get Jax to recruit as many of his kind as he can to work with us everywhere.” He laughed quietly. “Kind of ironic. The headline would read, ‘Vampire save humankind’.”

  “Yeah. Life is strange.”

  “Tell Vlad I said, ‘Good work and thank you’. We’ll take it from here.”

  “Yep.”

  Storm stuck out his hand to Vlad. “The Sovereign says good work and thank you.”

  The vampire shook his hand and smiled. “My interest is purely selfish.”

  “Well then, our gratitude is icing on the cake,” Storm replied.

  Vlad laughed. “Icing on the cake. Indeed. Look over there.”

  He pointed at something behind Storm. All four members of B Team looked in that direction. When they didn’t see anything, they turned back to Vlad, but of course, he was gone.

  “Funny guy,” said Ram.

  “Yeah,” Kay chuckled. “Nothing says funny like vampire.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Since the Edinburgh team was still at J.U., they were prepared to invade the 34th street nest within hours. By early afternoon Glen was able to make an announcement that a second large infestation had been eradicated. Four hundred twenty-three deadheads had been removed from the equation.

  The resulting mood at Jefferson Unit was celebratory. Champagne was pouring freely in the bar and laughter was heard from every corner.

  K Team had another reason to celebrate. On Wednesday night Spaz returned to duty having been declared good as new by Doc Reisgold. Reisgold was also reported to have said that Chorszak had an amazing constitution surpassed only by the hardness and thickness of his head.

  Patrol was every bit as uneventful as they expected. So far as they knew, the 34th street nest might have accounted for most of the Midtown population. At one o’clock they stopped for their mid shift snack. An Italian place in Hell’s Kitchen. They let Spaz choose because it was his first night back, knowing he’d choose Italian. He always chose Italian. Further, any one of them could have predicted that he’d order spaghetti and meatballs, extra meatballs.

  Sin eyed Spaz’s plate. “You’re going to have to do a thousand crunches to make up for that mountain of pasta. Especially since you just spent ten days doing a great impression of a slug.”

  “Mind your own six pack,” Spaz said. “When the ladies start complaining, I’ll ease up. Hey!” He caught the attention of the waiter hurrying by. “We need some more garlic br
ead.”

  “Cripes, Kellan. You do not need more garlic bread. You want people to smell you coming from a block away?” Sin continued.

  “You know, partner, you’re starting to sound way too much like a nag. If you don’t watch it, I’m going to have to insist on couples counseling.”

  Wakey laughed while Falcon shook his head.

  They were only half finished with dinner when Falcon got a text from Jax.

  JAX: K Team is up Columbus Circle north side. Meet at park entrance statue.

  FALCON: Four minutes.

  JAX: Hurry. Three deadheads. One vic.

  “We’re up,” he said to his team. They threw two hundreds on the table and headed out the door.

  As they ran toward the location Jax had given, Falcon said, “There are three. One girl.”

  Of the four of them, Wakey was unquestionably the fastest. He could have been a track star if he’d gone to regular schools. He was way out ahead of Sinclair and Falcon. Spaz was the slowest in a foot race and was always last, but he made up for it in a fight with strength and fast reflexes.

  When Wakey got a visual on Jax, he ran straight for him, cross traffic. Luckily the traffic was sparse during the wee hours of Thursday morning, as were visitors to Central Park.

  “Where are they?” Wakey whispered, breathing heavy.

  “They took her this way. I’ll go have a look. Be right back.”

  Jax returned in a minute. “I don’t think the woman can be saved.”

  Wakenmann pressed his lips together in a thin line. Saving the life of someone who’d been targeted by deadheads was always a hope and a goal, but rarely a reality.

  The rest of his team had caught up.

  “Show us,” Wakey said.

  Jax led them in the direction of the Umpire Rock, but they didn’t have to go far. The three deadheads were tearing at the body that used to be a woman, oblivious to the fact that hunters were approaching.

  “I’ll go around to the other side,” Jax said quietly. He looked at Sin. “Don’t shoot me.”

  Sin smirked. “Stay out of the way of stray bullets.”

  “Knock it off,” Falcon scolded.

  He nodded at Sin, who was their first line of attack. If Sin could pick off one, or, gods willing, more, it reduced the team’s risk. By a lot.

  The problem was that, first, it was dark under the trees where the biters were feeding and, second, only a shot to the heart would work. Since they were bent over the victim, the angle, even as a shot through the back, was impossible.

  Sin lifted the barrel of his pistol and pointed it up to the sky. “Not gonna work.”

  “Old school,” Wakey said.

  Just as the first drops of cold rain began to fall, Falcon motioned for Sin and Spaz to go right, while he and Wakey went left. They stalked forward, stakes in their hands, using every bit of stealth they could manage because every second they could draw closer without the deadheads becoming aware was an advantage that went in their plus column.

  Falcon and Wakey had managed to get within twenty feet when one of the deadheads looked straight at them, hissing through a carnage-filled mouth. When the other two biters looked up and saw the hunters, they broke left and started running, fueled by fear of death. It was one of the human traits deadheads retained after they were mutated by the virus.

  Wakey took off in that direction. Falcon said, “Wait! Wait!”, wanting his partner to wait until he caught up. But Wakenmann kept going.

  Jax appeared out of nowhere next to the fleeing deadheads and tackled one of them to the ground.

  Knowing that Jax could take care of himself, Wakenmann didn’t stop or hesitate as he continued his run down of the other biter. He gained ground on the deadhead quickly and was within five feet, stake held high at the ready. He knew exactly what he’d do and exactly how he’d do it. He’d practiced the move thousands of times and had applied it successfully in the field several times. A polite way of saying he’d scored confirmed kills.

  He wasn’t nervous. He wasn’t worried. He wasn’t afraid. If someone had asked him in that very moment to describe his thoughts, he would have said, “I’ve got this.”

  The deadhead was running along a paved path. He’d almost reached one of the streets that meandered through the park with regularly spaced lamps.

  Life can be counted on to deliver the unexpected. Certainly Wakey never expected what happened next. When he was within an arm’s reach of the deadhead, the thing suddenly stopped, turned, and came at him with a snarl and teeth bared. Wakenmann didn’t have time to back away or rethink his strategy.

  He was taken by surprise. So much so that he essentially ran into the deadhead’s teeth where they connected with his neck and tore with a vicious yank. Recognizing that a chase was still underway, the deadhead let go of Wakenmann and ran.

  Falcon, of course, did not continue pursuit. He dropped to his knees next to Wakey. They were close enough to the street and one of the lamps for Falcon to see the tear in his partner’s throat. Blood was spurting from the tear in his neck in rhythm with the beat of his heart.

  Without considering that he might have a tiny cut or hangnail, Falcon pressed his hand to Wakey’s neck, trying to stop the blood loss. The rain was coming down harder, almost beating hard enough to muffle Falcon’s sobs.

  When he saw that Wakey’s blood was flowing away with the water, something snapped in his mind. He began frantically scooping at the puddles forming around them as if he could stop the blood from flowing away from his partner’s body.

  He continued the madness of cupping his hands trying to hold back the flow of blood mixed with the deluge. He was single-mindedly occupied in the hopelessness of his task, when he heard Wakey’s voice.

  “Kristoph.” Wakey said it with the peace and serenity of someone who’d already passed and reached the Summerland. Kris stopped and looked at him. “I love you, brother,” he said, looking into Falcon’s eyes. “I’ll see you in the next life. Now move so Sinclair can sort things out.” Falcon jerked his gaze up to see Sin standing there with a stake in his hand looking as grim as the Reaper himself.

  While Falcon was trying to process what they were saying, Spaz grabbed him in a bear hug from behind and lifted him away. Sin drove the stake into his teammate’s heart and, for the life of him, wished it had been him.

  “NOOOOOOOO!!!” Falcon screamed. Spaz slapped a hand over Falcon’s mouth.

  “KRIS! You’ve got to gut up and shut up. You know we can’t draw attention.” When Falcon grew quiet, Spaz said, “I’m going to let you go now so I can call somebody to come get us.”

  Falcon nodded, surprised that any part of his body was still obeying his commands. He looked up to see Jaxon watching with something that looked a lot like sympathy on his face.

  He cleared the distance between them in four steps and grabbed Jax by the lapels of his drenched suit. “You’ve got to save him. Make him like you, Jax. Please. I’m begging you. Before it’s too late.”

  Jax shook his head slowly with a look of compassion so genuine it was raw. “I can’t. Only the immortals can make vampire like me. I’m sorry. Really sorry. I wish I could.”

  Falcon leaned against a tree trunk and remained upright for a few minutes before the reality of the situation hit him full force and he slid to the ground. There he sat, eyes glazed over, like he’d left his body.

  They only had to wait ten minutes for a clean up crew. Jax told what was left of K Team to go ahead and ride with Wakenmann’s body. He’d wait for the second van that would pick up the two deadhead corpses.

  Sin and Spaz helped him pull the bodies behind bushes and thanked him for waiting so that they could ride together as a team. One last time.

  Gretchen woke to banging on her door. She looked at the clock. It was four a.m. She pulled on her short robe as she was heading for the door.

  One look at Falcon was all it took for her to know a life-altering disaster had occurred. His clothes were soaking, stuck to him. His ey
es were bloodshot and haunted.

  She pulled him in. “What is it? What’s happened?”

  He opened his mouth and tried to say it, but couldn’t make the words come out. All he could do was stand there and sob.

  She put her arms around him and tried to offer comfort. “Shhhh. Shhhh. I’m here. Whatever it is, it will be alright.”

  In contradiction to the words she was speaking, unbidden tears of empathy were streaming down her own face. She didn’t need to know what had happened to know that the man she loved had been wrecked.

  At length, he pulled back and was able to wrench out one word. “Wakey.”

  He didn’t need to say more. Gretchen could read what wasn’t spoken. Her hand flew to her mouth as her own tears began coursing in earnest. She threw her arms around Falcon and squeezed as tightly as she could, as if she could somehow force Wakenmann’s spirit back to his body if she hugged Falcon hard enough.

  After a few minutes, she pulled Falcon into her bathroom, undressed him, dried him off, and put him in her bed. Wakey was the only word he spoke. She crawled in beside him, bundled him up as best she could in her arms, considering that she was a medium-sized woman and he was a six-foot-two man.

  She petted him and soothed him, murmured words of love, and made promises that he was going to make it through. After a couple of hours he fell asleep, no doubt exhausted.

  Taking her phone from the nightstand, she slipped from the room, closed the bedroom door and called Glen.

  “Yeah,” he said. “This is Catch.”

  “It’s Gretchen.”

  “I know.”

  “I need you to get somebody to cover Operations today. I’m with Falcon.”

  Glen hadn’t known the two of them were close in that way. Sovereigns were usually held apart from the rumor mill. “I see. Yes. Don’t worry. Let me know if there’s something that… Well, you know.”

  “Thank you.”

  She ended the call.

  Wakenmann’s body was flown home on one of The Order’s jets. K Team went with him, as did Gretchen Galen. Farnsworth agreed to keep Operations up and running so she could go.