Tried & True

by Charlie Cochet

  “What the hell just happened?”

  “It stopped. It just stopped.” Sloane ran a shaky hand through his hair. He grabbed on to Ash to steady himself. “It’s like he….” Sloane couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence. “I can’t feel anything.”

  “Okay, come on. Let’s go round up the guys. We can take the stuff to go.”

  Sloane nodded. Ash was right. If they didn’t get some real food in them soon, they wouldn’t be any help to anyone. They hurried outside, where thankfully the food had arrived and everyone was digging in. Rosa took one look at Sloane and stilled.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Something’s happened to Dex,” Ash said. “Grab your food or shovel that shit, ’cause we gotta go.” He grabbed a burger and handed it to Sloane. “Eat.”

  Years of working at the THIRDS, of not having enough time to fully recover, made them experts in getting food down as quickly as possible so they could get on with saving lives. In three bites, Sloane was done with his burger. The rest of his team was ready to go. They’d still need some time to be back to their full strength, but it was a start.

  “Hudson Colbourn?”

  Everyone looked over at the huge tiger Therian in jogging attire. He smiled wide at them, and Hudson smiled politely.

  “Yes?”

  The rustling sound met Sloane’s ears seconds before Hudson jerked, a tranq dart sticking out of his chest. Everything happened as if in slow motion. Hudson’s eyes drifted shut, and he crumpled to the ground. Sloane made a dive for him, catching him as Seb’s roar shook the trees. People screamed and ran as Seb jumped the iron rail and tackled the jogger to the ground. The team scrambled, flipping the hefty ironwork tables and taking cover as gunfire erupted. Sloane said a little prayer of thanks to the restaurant for their choice in sturdy, thick, iron-laden dining furniture. They weighed a fuckton, and the solid wood surface would provide some temporary cover.

  They’d come for Hudson.

  Ash huddled in beside Sloane, who had Hudson cradled in his arms. “Where the fuck is Seb?”

  Sloane peeked around the corner of the table. “He’s busy. We need to find one of the shooters and get that gun in Calvin’s hands.” He scanned the area and saw movement in the trees. “There.”

  Ash nodded and dashed over to the next couple of tables, where Calvin and Hobbs were. He said something, and the two nodded. Ash lifted the table and walked it over to the rail, covering them. In a swift movement, Calvin and his partner were over the rail. Ash tossed Hobbs the table, and Hobbs caught it, swinging it around to give him and Calvin cover just before Calvin dove into the bushes.

  Seconds later, Calvin emerged from the trees, shooting while Hobbs covered him. One bullet was all it took. Calvin aimed with precision and fired. No hesitation, no mistakes. Didn’t matter if his target was moving or not. He calculated and pulled the trigger.

  Sloane turned his attention to Letty, who was huddled behind another set of tables to his right. “Letty, what’s the status on backup?”

  “Fifteen minutes,” she called out.

  “Shit. Okay.” These guys had no intention on being here fifteen minutes. It had to be the Makhai. No one else wanted Hudson as badly as they did.

  Ash returned to Sloane’s side. “These assholes were waiting for us. How the fuck did they know to strike us now? How the hell did they know we’d be unarmed and vulnerable from Postshift?”

  “Probably were watching us.”

  Ash nodded his agreement. He moved his gaze to Hudson, out cold in Sloane’s arms. “They want the doc.”

  “They can’t have him.” Fuck, it couldn’t be a coincidence. What he’d felt from Dex, and now Hudson?

  “How the hell are we supposed to stop them, Sloane? There’s fucking dozens of them, all in tac gear and armed.”

  Ash was right. As skilled as Calvin was, there were only so many bullets in that gun, and from the number of emerging hostiles wearing tactical gear, it looked like they were outmuscled and outgunned. They hadn’t recovered enough for another shift.

  “We’re going to have to retreat.” There was no way they could face that many armed Therians in the state they were in.

  More gunfire erupted, followed by a small explosion that had Sloane and Ash ducking on instinct. Ash’s eyes widened.

  “What the fuck?”

  Sloane looked around the table. “Holy shit.”

  Ash joined him, his jaw dropping. “Is that…. That’s our BearCat.”

  Hobbs appeared in front of Sloane. He jabbed a finger at Hudson, then in the direction of the truck before making a driving motion.

  “Hudson’s driving?” Ash asked, confused.

  Sloane’s eyes went wide. “No. Hudson’s brother is driving.”

  The BearCat came plowing through the parking lot, aiming for every armed mercenary in its path. It soared over the grassy hill, and everyone scrambled out of the way as it skidded and turned, the back of it plowing through the restaurant’s fence. A hailstorm of bullets followed.

  The back doors opened, and Wolf jumped out. He looked like he’d just stepped out of a damned Armani ad. With a wide grin, he tossed Hobbs the keys.

  “There you go. Sorry I’m late. Dreadful traffic in this city.”

  “Gear up,” Sloane ordered, and everyone ran for the back of the BearCat to grab vests and firearms. Wolf crouched beside Sloane, his expression softening when he saw Hudson. He ran a hand over Hudson’s head.

  “How is he?”

  “Okay, just out. You knew, didn’t you?” Sloane asked, motioning to the BearCat behind him.

  “The Makhai are making their move. Whatever they’re up to, it’s big. I’ve been monitoring certain channels of chatter. Unfortunately the Makhai are very good at what they do, and I was only able to decipher one of their encrypted messages, which stated they planned to take Hudson today.”

  “So you’ve been watching Hudson.”

  Wolf nodded. He brushed Hudson’s hair away from his brow. His steel-blue eyes flashed, and Sloane swallowed hard at the transformation.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have some Makhai to kill.”

  Before Sloane could say a word, Wolf was off. He didn’t sneak or duck for cover. He stood, unbuttoned his suit jacket, and removed the guns with silencers strapped to the thin black balistic vest. Sloane had never seen anything like it. Wolf walked straight into the zone of fire. One bullet to the head of every Makhai mercenary who made the mistake of showing himself.

  Sloane hoisted Hudson onto his shoulder and stood. He ran to the back of the BearCat. His team had their shields out and were positioned around the truck, returning fire.

  “Seb,” Sloane called out. Where the hell was he?

  “In here,” Seb said, and Sloane noticed his knuckles were bloodied and there was a splatter of blood across his T-shirt. When Seb saw him looking, he motioned inside the truck. “It’s his.”

  “Help me with him.” Sloane turned so Seb could grab Hudson and carry him inside the truck, and then Seb helped Sloane up. Hudson lay on the bench, and on the floor next to him, the “jogger” lay on his stomach, his wrists and ankles zip-tied behind him. His face was a bloody mess, one eye swollen shut. His nose was broken, and there were a couple of teeth on the floor.

  “He’s not talking,” Seb growled, kicking the guy for good measure.

  “Sloane.”

  Sloane turned to Letty, who stood at the back of the truck.

  “Yeah?”

  “They’re gone.”

  “And Wolf?”

  She shook her head. “He’s gone too.”

  Ash appeared beside her. “My guess is he’s not going to just let them walk away. Personally, whatever those assholes get, they deserve.”

  “Everyone okay?” Sloane asked, and received a nod from Ash and Letty. “Good. Backup should be here any minute. They can get this place cleaned up. We need to get this guy to HQ, and—” His phone rang, and Sloane dug in his pocket for it, praying it was Dex.<
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  Unknown Caller flashed on his screen. With his heart in his throat, he answered. “Hello?”

  “Sloane.”

  “Austen?”

  “In about a minute, a car is going to pick you up and take you to an undisclosed location.”

  “Austen, what’s going on? Have you heard from Dex?”

  “It’s about Dex.”

  The world around him fell silent, and his breathing stopped, or at least felt like it did.

  “Dex was in a car wreck.”

  Considering Dex hadn’t been driving, all kinds of scenarios entered Sloane’s head.

  “He was picked up by a TIN medical team and is now at a TIN facility. See you soon.” The call ended, and Sloane stared down at his phone.

  “Sloane?” Ash put a hand on Sloane’s shoulder, startling him.

  “Dex…. He’s been in a car accident. TIN have him. They’re going to pick me up.”

  “I’m going with you,” Cael said, stopping in front of Sloane.

  Sloane nodded. “Letty, can you…?” He motioned around them, and Letty nodded.

  “We’ll take care of it, boss. You do what you gotta do, and keep us informed.”

  “Thank you, Letty.”

  Letty went off, rounding up the team and relaying information. Sloane was grateful when everyone got to work, and then Calvin stopped by the back of the truck.

  “Sloane, there’s a black SUV here.”

  Sloane hopped down from the truck, followed by Ash and Cael. The back doors were opened, and they climbed in. As soon as they were seated, the usual black bags were thrown over their heads. The doors closed and the car drove off. Sloane felt numb. He couldn’t even process what Austen had told him. Whatever had happened, Dex had to be okay. Now more than ever, Sloane knew the two incidents were connected. They had to be. Whatever was going on, he was going to get to the bottom of this. If Wolf was right and the Makhai had something up their sleeve, they had to find out what it was and put a stop to it before anyone else got hurt.

  The ride was short, and Sloane didn’t bother trying to figure out where they’d gone. He didn’t care. All he could think about was Dex. As soon as the SUV doors opened, Sloane jerked the black bag from his head and burst through the facility doors. Austen was waiting for them at the end of the corridor; the look on his face had Sloane breaking into a run to get to him. His heart sounded in his ears, and he was still feeling nauseous from Austen’s phone call.

  “Where is he?” Sloane demanded.

  “I’ll take you to him, but first….” Austen turned his attention to Ash and Cael. “I need you two to wait in that room there while I talk to Sloane.”

  “Screw that,” Cael snapped, his face flushed. “Where’s my brother, Austen? I want to see him.”

  “And you will. I promise. I just need to talk to Sloane first. Please, trust me on this.”

  “I’m his brother,” Cael growled, the fear and frustration radiating off him. It was hard to see, but if Austen didn’t want Cael going in just yet, there had to be a reason. Sloane put his hand on Cael’s shoulder.

  “Please, Cael. I promise, the moment I can get you in there, I will. You know I’d never keep him from you.”

  “I know,” Cael sighed, averting his gaze. “I just hate this not knowing. Is this how it’s going to be from now on?” Cael looked up at him, his big gray eyes filled with pain. “He’s my brother, and no one will tell me anything. I’m just supposed to sit here fearing the worst until someone decides it’s time for me to know. How would that make you feel, Sloane?”

  It would drive him, and his feral half, out of his mind. What the hell was he supposed to say to Cael? As it was, more people knew about who Dex and Sloane would be working for than was permitted. Most operatives led double lives. They didn’t disclose their TIN identities to anyone, not even their spouses. TIN had made an exception for Dex and Sloane because Destructive Delta had become TIN Associates and were being brought in as their assets. They’d made an exception for the others because they were THIRDS—they still hadn’t been happy about it, but they’d accepted.

  “Just go,” Cael said with a heavy sigh, turning to lean into Ash, seeking comfort. Ash wrapped his arms around Cael and brought him in tight against him, laying his cheek against Cael’s head as he rubbed his back.

  Sloane turned and followed Austen through another set of doors, surprised when Austen stopped halfway down the corridor. “What’s going on? Where is he?”

  Austen motioned toward the door at the end. Sloane made to go, but then Austen took hold of his arm. “There’s something you need to know before you go in there.”

  “Oh God.” Sloane put a hand to his mouth as he tried to get ahold of his emotions. “Please, Austen, just fucking tell me.”

  “He’s going to be okay. Physically, anyway. He’s banged up, but thanks to his new Therian DNA, his body has already started to heal. There was a nasty pileup, and he was thrown from the roof of a speeding van. He got lucky and landed on the roof of a car.”

  Sloane didn’t even know where to begin processing everything Austen had just told him. Thrown from the roof of a moving van? “Jesus Christ. What the…? How…? Wait, what do you mean he’s going to be okay physically? For Christ’s sake, Austen, spit it out.”

  “The reason he was on the roof of a van was because he was chasing it.” Austen ran a hand through his hair before meeting Sloane’s gaze. “They took Maddock.”

  Sloane stared at him. When he spoke, his voice was a whisper. “What?” No. That couldn’t be right. He’d heard wrong.

  “After the tux fitting, Maddock was going back to THIRDS HQ, and Dex was heading to the park. We don’t have all the details, but I managed to get hold of some security footage. Dex was roughly a block away when a man walks past Maddock, turns, and shoots his neck with an injector. Maddock screams, Dex turns, and a black commercial van pulls up to the curb. Two masked men get out. They take Maddock….”

  “And Dex goes after them.” Sloane felt his knees go weak, and Austen was at his side, an arm wrapped around his waist. That explained everything. What he’d felt back at the restaurant. Oh God. It had been happening while Sloane was in the bathroom trying to call Dex. He blinked back his tears and closed his eyes to get ahold of himself. “Tell me you have something,” Sloane said hoarsely, his heart feeling as though it was going to beat out of him. “Austen, tell me TIN has something.” He opened his eyes to look at Austen.

  Austen shook his head sadly. “These guys were professionals. We got nothing.”

  Sloane leaned against the wall and slipped his fingers into his hair. Oh God, this wasn’t happening. It had to have been the worst moment of Dex’s life, and Sloane hadn’t been there. No, he wasn’t going to go down that route. Shit.

  “They had it all planned out, where and when to strike.”

  “I’m not following,” Austen said.

  “They knew I wouldn’t be with Dex for the tux fitting. I wasn’t supposed to be there. And they knew we’d be vulnerable after our shift, which is why they waited until just after to try and take Hudson.”

  “Shit. They tried to take the doc? When was this?”

  “Just before you called. In Central Park, in front of the Boathouse. They didn’t succeed. Wolf intercepted the message and showed up.”

  “Okay, I gotta get this intel in. You should go.” Austen motioned to the end of the hall, and Sloane flinched. Dex….

  Sloane pushed away from the wall and tore off down the corridor, ignoring Austen calling out for him. He ran into the room and came to a halt. Dex sat up on the side of the cot, the only sounds in the room coming from the machines monitoring Dex’s vitals. Sloane blinked against the tears welling in his eyes as he took in Dex’s bloodied and bruised state. They’d obviously tried cleaning him up, but the white bandages stood out against his stained skin. He was covered in scratches, cuts, and bruises. His eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed, and he was missing a sneaker. He stared down at the floor, unmoving.


  “Dex….” Sloane wanted to go to him, but Dex’s stillness gave him pause. He recognized this. It was the calm before the storm.

  “I lost him.”

  Sloane swallowed hard. He remained where he stood. For the first time in his life, he didn’t go to Dex, no matter how fiercely his feral half, and his heart, screamed at him to. He couldn’t. Sloane could always read Dex, could gauge what his partner needed. Dex had always been good at giving off signals—his body language, his vibe, or in this case, nothing but stillness.

  “We’ll find him,” Sloane said softly.

  Dex looked down at his hands. “I had him. I could have….”

  Sloane took a step forward, and Dex slipped off the cot. Sloane braced himself. He knew what was coming. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and his inner Felid wailed at the agony he could feel radiating from his mate.

  The roar that tore from Dex’s lips startled the hell out of Sloane, and he instinctively took a step back. It was an inhuman cry, the cry of a wounded animal.

  Dex’s skin flushed red as he screamed, and Sloane’s heart shattered when Dex tore at the tubes and pads attached to his skin. He grabbed the heart monitor and swung it into the concrete block wall, shattering it into several pieces. The next machine met the same fate, snatched up and smashed against the floor. Dex stomped down on it repeatedly with his sneakered foot, grabbing cables and wires, jerking and tearing. He cursed and yelled as he destroyed the equipment, using a steel tube like a baseball bat to beat the remaining machinery to pieces. Chunks of plastic and wiring sprayed in different directions. Dex punched, pounded, and kicked at anything that wasn’t already shattered into dozens of pieces before he tossed the rod and turned to flip over the cot.

  The door opened behind Sloane, and Sloane quickly pushed it closed, shaking his head at the operatives through the window on the other side. No way in hell Sloane was letting them in here. It was for their own safety. The room once again plunged into silence, and Sloane turned to find Dex standing in the middle of the room, which now resembled some kind of equipment landfill. Sweat dripped from his face, his chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, the shattered remains of his grief surrounding him on all sides.