by Jools Louise
Alfie’s heart melted at the misery on the little boy’s face, and he knelt down, then took the boy into his arms and hugged him. The others all crowded around and joined in, offering their comfort, as well. “Well now, sweetie, I don’t suppose you know how to disarm this bomb, do you?” he asked, not hoping for much. Moe was only three, after all.
“The yellow one is the booby trap,” Moe replied succinctly, sounding deadly serious. “When I watched daddy do it, that’s how he always explained it. That there’s two blue and two red wires. One of the blue ones is a trap, he said, so when people think that they’re more clever than him, he wins, every time, because they go boom. He said the other blue one has to be cut at the same time as the two red ones, to stop it.” Then he shrugged. “But this is a different bomb to the ones I saw,” he said, snuggling into Alfie’s chest and sighing heavily. “That man, Ghost, always carried bags like this one with him, but different colors, and he never left with a bag when he went back to town. He used to say that he had a bad memory whenever I asked about it.”
“I didn’t like him,” Candy declared, scowling fiercely. “When nobody was looking, he was mean and nasty to me and the other kids at the school. He made out like we’re stupid, just because we’re little.”
Alfie thought for a moment. “I don’t suppose you saw where Ghost left the bags, did you?” he asked, thinking that John and Murphy were going to kick his ass if anything bad happened to these little guys. But he needed to find the bombs, and he didn’t trust using his phone. Since this bomb was on a timer to coincide with the opening ceremony, judging by the digital readout, they had time to find all the devices and disarm them before anything bad happened.
“He left one in the swimming pool lockers, one at the basketball court, one at the wrestling and martial arts arena, and three around the bleachers here at the stadium,” Candy said.
“Yeah, we followed him around. He was pretty stupid and didn’t realize what we were doing,” Murray said smugly, scoffing. “There’s one over at the baseball field and another at the ice rink, and he also left one at the main ranch house and archery-and-shooting field.”
“Don’t forget the ones he left on the running track, the cross-country course for the horse riding, and the show-jumping arena,” Blue cut in knowledgeably.
Alfie did the arithmetic. “So there’s thirteen bombs apart from this one?” he asked, feeling sick. That was bigger than he’d imagined. He would have to get someone here to disarm them all.
“That’s all the bags we saw,” Murray said. “But we’ve been to school, so he may have done other stuff, too.”
A moment later, Alfie heard voices and turned to see Kaden, David, Sketch, and Skull walking toward them. He jumped up, ushered the children away from the bag, and tried to rein in his panic.
“Is everything okay?” Skull asked, frowning as he studied Alfie’s face.
Alfie stepped aside, pointing silently to the opened bag. Walking closer, Skull cursed beneath his breath. “We’ve been looking for anything that might indicate Ghost has been up to no good,” he said, scowling at the bomb.
“There are thirteen, plus this one, that we know of,” Alfie said and let them know where the other bags had been left. “We need a full bomb squad here. This is dangerous.”
“Oh, no, Moe showed us how to cut the wires,” Blue said helpfully, leading to a chorus of gasps and curses from the adults, while the children all giggled at the flood of swearing, hastily quelled.
“You cut the wires?” Alfie asked, aghast.
“Yep, it was easy,” Murray said proudly. “The clock just stopped right away.” He paused, frowning a little. “It sped up quite a bit before we cut the last wire, though. That was a little scary,” he finished, wiping his brow comically.
The adults all looked at each other, speechless for a moment. “How many did you manage to disarm?” Skull asked carefully, kneeling beside the children.
“This is the last one,” Moe mumbled, hiding his face shyly. “This one looks different than the others,” he explained when Skull arched a brow enquiringly.
“Different how?” Skull asked, frowning at the bag.
“There’s an extra red wire,” Moe said, pointing with his chubby little index finger. “The others had the same number of wires, one yellow, two blue, two red, and all the others black, like the ones my dad made. This one has three red ones. It’s a trick.”
“Call John,” Kaden said urgently.
“No need,” Sketch said calmly. “Just get these kids away from here, and warn everyone there may be a loud explosion if I get this wrong,” he added with a grin.
“You’re not going to disarm this, are you?” David asked, looking horrified. Alfie felt for his friend, since he’d only just found his mates. If anything happened to Sketch, he’d be devastated.
“You guys go and take these little ones out of here,” Sketch said firmly, his tone brooking no argument. “I’ve had training in this kind of thing.” He smiled at David warmly. “Really, I’ll be fine.”
“You have to cut several wires at once,” Alfie said, frowning. “How will you do that on your own?”
Sketch pursed his lips. “Carefully?” he replied, smirking slightly.
Alfie laughed despite himself. “I’ll call John,” he said dryly, palming his phone. “I didn’t before because I thought the signal may trigger the bomb.”
Sketch stayed his hand, stopping him punching in the numbers.
“It still could,” he said. “The third red wire seems to be linked to another phone inside the bag,” he explained. “There may be a fail-safe in here, so if the first attempt is thwarted, the bomb still might detonate remotely.” He looked at Moe. “Were there phones in any of the other bags?”
“No, sir,” the little boy said, shaking his head. “The others were just hooked to the clock.”
“Go and find the other devices, and alert John when you’ve left here,” Sketch said to the others. “Get these little guys away from here, please.” He sounded a little nervous for the first time.
“Come on, kids. You come with me and tell me where the other bags are,” David said, looking torn between staying to help and getting the children somewhere safer.
“Call Joe and the rest of the crews,” Skull advised. “I’ll stay here and help Sketch. Pace needs to know, as well. They’re searching the town right now, since Ghost has been a busy boy since he arrived.”
“We didn’t see him put any bags in town,” Candy said. “But he bought a lot of sweets from Dougie’s shop. We joked that he would lose all his teeth if he wasn’t careful, but he just laughed and said we’d all lose ours before he did.”
The menace behind that statement, given the fact that Ghost had apparently been prepared to commit murder on a grand scale, left Alfie in a state of shock. All those innocents’ lives at one man’s mercy because the bastard had a skewed view of shifters.
“We’ll get this sorted,” Sketch said confidently. “Ghost and his cronies won’t win this one. There’s been enough bloodshed in this town. It’s time for some happiness.” He cast a glance at his mates that had Alfie sighing with delight. He loved a good romance. He wondered where his own mates were, since he hadn’t seen them for a little while. They were usually not far away. He got up and decided to leave the two alpha males to defuse the explosives. He wanted his lovers.
* * * *
John had his hands full, fending off a veritable army of well-armed, well-trained militia types, courtesy of a group of nutters calling themselves Flashpoint. He grunted with satisfaction as he fought off the barrage of hits, taking care of the assailants one by one, cutting down their numbers steadily as his friends joined in the street brawl. While searching for a bunch of suspicious devices in the form of bags of candy that had been left in various places around Sage, in trash cans and drains, he and his friends had been suddenly inundated as a swarm of men came barreling into town, intent on a fight.
Jay, Sherman, Kieran, Kevin, M
ick, Thomas, and Pace were all involved in their own troubles, and John could hear the sounds of combat coming from all over Sage. Flashpoint had a whole army, apparently. From the clinic, several of the patients who had been rescued from Colorado came running—and limping. They jumped into the brawl readily, prepared to take on the insurgents and help their new friends of Sage rid the town of the scourge of haters.
“John, behind you!” a voice shouted. It was his friend Hughie, a Scottish ex-Special Forces soldier who had come over for the tournament. He and a group of eight other friends from Britain who were also engaged in the battle. Their kick-ass skills were a bonus right then. They needed all the muscle they could get. John whirled gracefully, lashing out with his foot and kicking at the guy who thought he could sneak up on him with a hunting knife. The weapon went flying as John’s boot hit home, shattering the man’s wrist. Following through, John launched a whirlwind of kicks and punches. He sent his attacker to the ground bloodied and unconscious.
“Thanks, Hughie,” he called back, whirling again to defend against yet another idiot.
“No problem, Johnny boy,” the Scot said cheerfully, obviously relishing the fight. “This reminds me of being back home, on the streets of Glasgow, on a Friday night after the footie.”
John chuckled, knocking his fist into someone’s face with a grin, sending the man flying backward. “Hughie, that’s not a normal Friday night, my friend,” he retorted breathlessly, wondering how much longer the fight could go on. Flashpoint was losing badly.
“Johnny, my lad, it is where I come from,” the fiery-haired soldier replied jauntily. “Now, I do believe we may just be winning.”
This last statement came when the combatants suddenly gave up the fight, seeing that there was only a handful left standing. Bloodied and looking exhausted, they seemed to come to the same decision at once and knelt in the road, hands raised behind their heads as they stared miserably at the ground.
“That’s the best idea you’ve had all day, I imagine,” John said with relief, scowling at them all. “Now would someone perhaps tell us what this nonsense was all about?”
Apparently, these losers were not exactly loyal to whoever ran Flashpoint, and they were eager to spill the beans. John sighed, listening intently, and glanced up as Pace wandered over, looking furious as the plan unfolded.
“So, as well as planting over a dozen explosive devices at a place where lots of vulnerable children were going to be, you idiots thought it would be a fun idea to distract us so that even more people could be killed, is that it?” Pace asked the most vocal of the militia curtly. The man nodded.
“We didn’t know anything about any children,” he protested, as though that would somehow bring forgiveness for his actions. “I got kids myself, and I don’t really care to have any little ones hurt. But these shifters are taking our jobs,” he said lamely. “I haven’t been able to work since I left the military. Nobody wants to hire a guy with no skills except with his fists.”
John sent Pace a droll look, then shrugged when the man looked even more irritated. “Sage is hiring,” he said, forestalling the sheriff’s retort. “We have a number of new businesses opening up—shops, a school, the sports center. We’ll need a lot of people to help us now that Sage is expanding. Construction of a new hotel, for one, since our first one is full all the time.” He stared hard at the group of kneeling men. “Perhaps you might consider actually using your own brains for a change, rather than blindly following someone else’s agenda and hurting the wrong people.”
“We don’t hate shifters,” another man said suddenly. “We were being paid to cause a ruckus, and we all need the money.” He looked a little disgusted at the whole situation. “I was a marine, served my country during four TODs overseas, and this doesn’t sit well with me. We were told that you were dissing humans, as though we were inferior. We don’t know anything about explosives or anyone getting killed.”
“They sound sincere,” John murmured to Pace, who nodded reluctantly.
“Who hired you?” Pace asked sharply.
“A woman,” the first man replied. “She said something about wanting to get the party here started early.”
“Sounds like it could be our wolverine bitch,” Slug declared, looking tough and angry as he walked out of the alley behind where they stood. “A couple of the guys I’ve just been dealing with said something that made it sound like she was involved.”
John’s phone rang suddenly, and he frowned as he saw Alfie’s name on the caller ID. “Hey, Alfie, what’s up?”
“Mason’s gone missing. Have you seen him?” Alfie shouted down the phone, sounding really worried. “Joe said he saw him heading over to the stadium earlier, but no one’s seen him since. Is he in town with you guys?”
Jay wandered over and grabbed the phone from John’s hand. “He’s not here, baby,” he said. “We’ve got the town under control. I’ll come by as soon as I can. Don’t worry, love, we’ll find him.”
John retrieved his phone and put it back into his jeans pocket. All the shifters had remained in human form to fight the insurgents. They hadn’t wanted to kill anyone, wanting to keep the carnage to a minimum. With Mason missing, though, the stakes had just gotten higher.
“I can’t find Douglas, either,” Ethan said as he came running over. “He was at Candy’s Korner when the town was invaded. Now he’s nowhere to be seen. He’s vanished.”
John snarled and gripped the hair of the man who had first spoken. “Tell me exactly what your plan was supposed to be,” he said with vicious menace, making the guy pale significantly at the lethal change to John’s demeanor. “If anything bad happens to Douglas, your lack of employment will be the least of your fucking worries.”
The man began talking rapidly, looking terrified as John bared his huge feline fangs warningly. By the time he was done, John was coldly furious. A man he had tried to help, who had been given every chance to cooperate and change, had decided to go after a man who was blind and vulnerable. John smiled grimly as he began to stalk toward the mall with Cody, Jay, Slug, and Ethan at his heels. Douglas was blind but by no means helpless. He hoped his young friend kicked Geoff’s sorry ass.
Chapter Seven
Alfie listened carefully, hearing the haughty voice of the wolverine bitch responsible for blinding Douglas and murdering his first mate, Ellis Hawkwing. Beside him, lying on their bellies, were Kaden, Joe, Aaron, Archie, and Lucas. Across the clearing, hidden in the trees at the other side of the small lake, was Aiden, mated to the town shrink, Murphy. Three African hunting dog shifters who’d helped with the search for Mason—Sky and Bryce and Marvin—were beside Aiden. They were mated to Jace, one of the first rescued from beneath Sage. He and Aiden, after being experimented on and left for dead, had found refuge at Two Spirit Ranch. Alfie was glad his friends were all here to help. Mason meant everything to him, smart and sexy and an inadvertent convert to shifter-hood. Joe possessed a special form of the shifter virus and had mistakenly made a shifter out of Mason, who had been a pure-blooded black panther before that. Alfie couldn’t imagine life without his laid-back mate.
As Alfie watched, he saw a small group of black-clad soldiers, part of Ryder’s team, crawl forward, almost invisible despite the glimmer from the newly installed lighting that led to the lake. The area had been opened up as part of the campgrounds for the tournament, and with so many people wanting to stay longer, Joe had initiated the building of a permanent site here, with security lighting, a new toilet and shower block, plus improvements to the small jetty that jutted out into the water. Alfie remembered this place as one he’d visited often after being rescued. He and his friends had all enjoyed fun and barbecues here over the years. It was a beautiful place, now sullied by the presence of an enemy who had reared her head again.
Ryder was among the group, having snuck out to the ranch with his elite squad. John and Jay had stayed in town, alerting Alfie that Geoff, a bitter and twisted ex-marine, had gone after Douglas at the ma
ll. Alfie scowled. He hoped Douglas kicked the guy’s balls up through his esophagus. Geoff may have lost his loved ones because of some terrible shifters, but that didn’t mean he had to hurt every one of them. The man must be crazy.
Ryder’s crew launched their attack, firing a series of flash bombs into the darkness, blinding the group of idiots who surrounded Mason. The wolverine bitch screamed in rage and terror and began to disappear into the trees.
“Oh no you don’t, bitch,” Alfie muttered. He shifted and raced after her, hearing a warning shout from behind. He wanted to rip her head off, and heard sounds of his friends pursuing him as he ran.
Turning suddenly, she grinned maniacally at him as she stopped in her tracks, and laughed as she lifted a small remote for him to see, then pushed the glowing red button. He tilted his head, then grinned when there was no explosion from the sports complex, sighing with relief that Sketch and Skull seemed to have managed to defuse the bomb they’d been dealing with.
“You lose, bitch.” He snarled, leaping forward, only to fall backward as she erupted into a ball of fire. She hadn’t been trying to detonate the bomb at the stadium, but had been wearing a suicide vest.
Tumbling backward, Alfie heard the percussion of the blast in his eardrums, and then everything went black.
* * * *
John entered the mall and headed to the far end, where the food hall was situated on the upper level. He saw Douglas kneeling beside Geoff, but he didn’t appear to be in any distress. Instead, the pair were discussing something on the ground. As John walked closer, he saw a circuit board, hidden by a floor tile, wrapped in plastic. What the hell?