Come Hell or High Water (Hellcat Series Book 5)

by Sharon Hannaford

  “I’ll call Athena if I have to,” she assured him. “I’ll find out where the SMV clean-up vans are, I’m sure we’ll be able to use those.” She was about to make the calls when Trish squeaked in excitement.

  “I’ve got him. Henry, he’s stationary. And it’s a…” she tapped a few more keys, “metal works. Looks like it’s been non-operational for a few weeks, waiting to be refurbished.”

  “That’ll be the place,” Gabi said.

  “Unless they’re onto Henry, and it’s just a decoy,” Kyle muttered. Geesh, he wasn’t quite himself today.

  “We’ll send someone to check while we gear up,” Julius said, raising the blind on the window to check on the dying rays of sunset outside. “Moonrise is in less than three hours. Fergus, you’re in charge of rousing the Vampires who are coming with. Alexander, arrange someone to gather the protective clothing and weapons from storage, load a van with whatever we can spare for the Werewolves, and make sure the rest is ready to load onto the helicopters.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Gabi poked her head inside the surveillance van; Kyle was gone and Trish was connecting wires and tapping keyboards like a woman possessed. She was trying to configure a new piece of equipment that would block the wireless Internet in the area. They needed to stop any live feed the Kresniks might be trying to transmit. The blocker had arrived too late to run field tests on, and Trish was desperately concerned it wouldn’t work without glitches. Her wolf prowled restlessly near the surface of her mind. Gabi calmed it with a gentle touch of power.

  Trish flashed her a hint of a smile. “Thanks, now get going. I’ll be fine here. One problem at a time, right.”

  “One problem at a time,” Gabi agreed.

  “Watch his back, please.” Trish didn’t look at her, fighting back tears. She’d probably given Kyle the same instructions about Gabi’s back. She was a total sap, and Gabi loved her for it.

  “Always,” Gabi replied, the earnesty unforced. It was something the two of them had been doing for so long they couldn’t stop if they tried. She backed out of the van and leaned down to recheck the straps on Razor’s body armour, giving him a swat on the rump when he swished his tail, annoyed at her fussing. She straightened and tapped the earpiece in her right ear to activate the commlink and winced as someone yelled an order.

  “Quietly, guys,” she hissed. “Some of us have Vamp hearing.”

  “Sorry, Hellcat,” the disembodied male voice said, hushed now. It sounded like Matt. “We’re almost through the fence. Three more minutes and then we’re good to go. There’s a bank of windows low enough for a good entry point.”

  “Perfect,” Gabi said. She was jogging the short distance down the grass verge towards the steel factory. The night air was beginning to taste ever so slightly of ozone, and thick clouds were gathering to the east. A storm was on the way. She found Patrick settled into a clump of unkempt bushes across the road from the main entrance gate. She ghosted in beside him and Razor joined her, silent as always. Other Werewolves were in positions up and down both sides of the road, so still and camouflaged even Gabi struggled to pinpoint them.

  She drew in a deep breath, praying for calm. This was the tough part: the waiting. They needed the last of the Kresniks to arrive so she could put in the call to Julius. They didn’t want to gatecrash the party until all the guests were in attendance. Moonrise was less than half an hour away, so she’d give it ten more minutes unless she got some kind of go-ahead from Henry before that. That she hadn’t had any other communication from him since the voicemail had her concerned.

  Her right hand was itching for Nex, or maybe it was Julius’s presence she craved. Four helicopters were warming up and Julius’s teams were ready and waiting for her signal. When the raid began, she was tasked with rescue and recovery of the captured Werewolf, Kyle and Patrick were to oversee the capture of Darkstalker and Lady Helsing, and Julius was in charge of tracking down the most important quarry of them all: the Lieutenant. There was a high probability that he’d hang around to watch his plans come to fruition, and if he did, Julius would capture him. Taking him alive was essential. They needed information.

  Alexander and Liam were the only two Clan fighters who weren’t waiting in the helicopters. They’d been charged with helping set up a community hall a few blocks away so that humans could be taken back there to have any injuries treated and their memories wiped or altered before being sent home. Alexander hadn’t been impressed with his exclusion. Gabi felt for him; being left out of the action was like being the only child not invited to a birthday party. Of course, they all understood that the Clan couldn’t afford to risk both Julius and Alexander. Interestingly he’d perked up once Gabi mentioned that Athena herself would be bringing a team of Erasers and Healers to help out. It had surprised Gabi that the High Magus had agreed so readily to send assistance, let alone decide to pitch in herself, on such short notice. Alexander’s attitude had done an about-face once he heard the news, and that set Gabi to wondering if the two of them were still having some kind of clandestine relationship. She’d assumed Athena had cut him off like she had the rest of them, but maybe she’d been wrong.

  She dragged her mind back to the present. The thick storm clouds were scudding in fast, threatening to swallow the moon before it even rose. The Kresniks had chosen well; the steel mill was a difficult target. It was cut off on two sides by other factories, neither of which were operating tonight, possibly also waiting for refurbishment, as the whole area had been earmarked for industrial upgrade. Entry from the other factories was nigh on impossible; the walls between them were fifteen feet high and topped with large curls of razor wire. That left them two somewhat accessible entry points, but without knowing the exact layout inside the factory, the success of this one was going to be in the hands of the gods.

  The only good thing about the layout was that it would be very difficult for the humans to flee the place. Unless they had another rat run. But it was doubtful they’d had time to build a tunnel the length needed to get from the actual building to the other side of the wall. It would’ve needed to be over two hundred metres long. Kyle had run several rings of the area and hadn’t been able to find anything that resembled a tunnel exit. Of course, it was possible they had tunnels inside the grounds, in which case they could run, but with a squad of Werewolves at the main gate, they wouldn’t get far.

  Matt and a team scraped together from available Werewolves and ex SMV Hunters were working on cutting a hole in the reinforced chain-link fence on the far side, which backed onto a railway line. The rest of them waited near the front of the factory, where a steady stream of cars and motorbikes had been arriving at the main gate for the past half an hour. Each vehicle stopped and entered a code into a covered keypad, making the automatic gates slide aside with discordant creaks and groans.

  Kyle was tasked with finding them a way through the main gates without drawing undue attention. She could just make out his silhouette on the far side of the main gate. She hoped he’d figured out the code the Kresniks were using to open the gates; while the Vamps would drop out of the helicopters, directly into the grounds, the non-Vamps had to make it in on foot. She checked her watch one more time, and then checked on Kyle; he gave her a thumbs-up. There had been no cars or bikes for nearly five minutes, the majority of them were here. If there were any latecomers, they’d be dealt with by the team remaining to guard the gate. She looked at Patrick and he nodded grimly. Showtime.

  She pulled out her phone and sent Julius the pre-prepared text; two seconds later she felt his acknowledgement of her message. They still didn’t know exactly what distance their mental connection worked over, so they’d decided not to rely on it, but she knew without an actual return message. Julius was coming.

  “Three minutes and counting,” she murmured into the commlink, welcoming the adrenalin zinging through her veins. She concentrated on her breathing, then widened her focus, allowing a tinge of the crimson mist of Red Rage to filter into her bra
in, just enough to sharpen her senses, awaken sleeping nerves and energise her muscles. Razor rose to his feet, ears pricked, tail alert, sensing her excitement.

  Patrick reacted to the sound of the helicopters two seconds before Gabi heard them.

  “We’re a go,” she said into the commlink, patting her MacDart and double-checking the supply of tranquiliser darts on her hip. “Don’t forget to stay behind the Vamps. Silver bullets are a certainty. Don’t be stupid,” she reminded the Werewolves. She settled the McBow more comfortably on her shoulder, it was only for desperate circumstances, and strode across the road. Kyle was already at the keypad. Razor and nine others joined them at the gate as a metallic clunk signalled the opening of the gates. Three remained behind at the gate while the rest ran inside on silent feet, aiming for the ground-level windows on the left, alongside the reception area according to the blueprints Trish had scrounged up from somewhere. They dated back to when the place was originally built, so there were no guarantees they were up to date.

  As Gabi sprinted through the haphazardly parked assortment of vehicles, Razor keeping pace at her right heel, the thrumming of helicopters filled the air above her. There was plenty of room for them to land, but that wouldn’t be necessary. The air whipped around her, tugging at her tightly secured bun and pulling at her unzipped, Savannah-enhanced combat jacket as the choppers lowered to just above roof level. Soft thuds heralded the arrival of the Vampires, their pale faces gleaming in the first rays of the not-quite-full moon. Some split away—they were part of Tabari’s team of Vampires, who would be joining Matt’s team’s infiltration at the rear of the building.

  Julius was beside her in a second, zipping up her jacket with a scowl. A distant rumble of thunder vibrated through the calm night air. The storm was close.

  Julius kissed her, hard and quick, before turning and sweeping his arm towards the bank of windows.

  “Go,” he said. The foremost squad of leather-clad Vampires ploughed through the metal-framed windows like wrecking balls. Gabi took a moment to reinforce her orders to Razor to stay safe until the guns had been neutralised and then followed the Vampires through the car-sized hole in the side of the factory. Similar sounds of destruction wafted from somewhere to their right.

  Once inside the factory, she was virtually blind. Where they’d broken through was utterly devoid of light. It seemed to be a back office; desks, chairs and filing cabinets tripped her up at every step. She grabbed hold of Julius’s arm, allowing him to lead her through the pitch dark.

  As they exited a busted-down door, there was suddenly enough light for her to see by. She released Julius and he flew ahead of her, rushing headlong for the very centre of the factory, his golden head ducking metal staircases, his long, leather-clad legs leaping wide steel pipes and carelessly abandoned machinery without pause or thought. Mac, Fergus and Charlie spread out beside him, no weapons in their hands.

  Shouts and screams erupted, bouncing off the metal walls, male and female and something closer to a howl. Then shots rang out, as loud as explosions in the echo-inducing building. Sharp ratatats, yells that sounded like pain or anger. Fergus’s battle cry.

  Her breath was coming hard when she reached the scene of the firefight, and she slowed, chafing at the need for caution. She paused in the dark at the edge of a large cleared section of bare cement floor and assessed the situation. It was a repeat of the church, except for two things: a young man was trapped in the cage instead of Adriana, and dozens of Kresniks now surrounded the cage, backs to it, guns in every hand. Most held small handguns, but some had automatic rifles and some actually wielded sub-machine guns. They’d been prepared for an attack. In fact, if it wasn’t for the Vampires leading the attack, this would’ve been an utter bloodbath. A bloodbath recorded for all of humanity to see.

  A multitude of cameras and bright lights focused on one spot; the young Werewolf, barely more than a teenager, was tied to a chair in the centre of the cage and stripped to the waist, with electrodes attached to the bare skin of his chest. Perspiration trickled from his temples and down his neck, and his eyes were wide with fear, his wolf almost visible in them. Wires ran from the electrodes to a small electronic box just outside the cage and to Gabi’s left. A large, sweating man with thick, round glasses, semi-protected on three sides by piled packages of coiled steel cable, was furiously fiddling with the equipment. Lights on the cameras suddenly blinked red, and every second one began to pan around, focusing on the fight. They were running, recording, transmitting. Gabi prayed like she hadn’t in a long time that Trish’s new equipment was working.

  The Vampires were taking heavy fire. Julius included. Gabi felt every bullet as it entered his flesh. The burn, the fiery agony. Their protective clothing helped with some but not all of the hits. But not one of them so much as slowed. The humans firing the weapons looked incredulous at the sight of the Vampires taking bullets, but none of them stopped shooting. She ducked as a bullet zinged past her left temple, ricocheting off a steel beam just behind her with a loud ping. She leapt into a forward roll, taking cover behind a pallet of boxed nails. Her heart was hammering in her chest, sweat popping out on her forehead. Julius’s pain felt so much like her own that her body was reacting to it physically. Mentally building a thin wall between them, just enough to minimise the effect of his pain, she peered out around the edge of the boxes.

  Fergus raised his leather-clad left arm to deflect another round of bullets, bloody wounds decorated his exposed hands and face and his mouth was set in a grim line. Nathan used him as cover, MacDart poised as he calmly and methodically emptied a clip of twelve darts into exposed human flesh. Through the chaos Gabi watched as men and woman flinched and swiped at the offending darts. Within seconds their knees began to wobble; they would be unconscious in less than two minutes. All around the cage, pairs of Vampires worked the same strategy. One acting as a shield for another. Julius stood alone, outwardly oblivious of the bullets pounding into his body.

  Then Gabi felt it. Julius was gathering power, pulling it from the Clan, all of those not actively involved in the fight. It sizzled across her skin, raising goosebumps, hardening her nipples. She held her breath, waiting for the explosion, breathing through her body’s pain reaction and further strengthening her mental wall. Then Julius raised his hands, but instead of the vicious whirlwind of power she expected, the air went dead calm. The crazy cacophony of shots stilled in an instant and every bullet in the air stopped and simply dropped to the floor.

  Those humans still conscious looked around, bewildered, and then the guns began to explode. One by one the metal simply blew into pieces, leaving the shooters screaming and nursing their hands. It only took a few of those before the rest of them began to drop their weapons, some throwing them as far as they could away from themselves.

  Gabi rose from her protective spot and raced forward, pausing to check on Fergus, who breathlessly waved her away; the injuries on his face were already closing, misshapen lumps protruding beneath his skin in some places. The embedded bullets and shrapnel would need to be cut out later, and Gabi suppressed a shudder at the thought. Scanning the area, her MacDart at the ready, she prepared to shoot, but the humans seemed confused, in shock, defeated. Those still standing were holding their hands up, as though confronted by police. She did a quick headcount: forty-eight, oh, and another couple collapsed on the far side, fifty-two. That wasn’t even close to the number Kyle had tallied coming in the gate.

  “Julius.” She spun towards him, but her eyes were drawn upward and Julius was already moving, he’d felt the instant she made the connection. There were humans everywhere above them, hanging from catwalks and ceiling beams, crouched on tiny metal platforms, and suspended from machinery and metal frameworks. The sharp sound of shots assaulted her ears as more guns began firing.

  Julius wouldn’t be able to pull off his bullet-stopping trick again for a while. That had taken a huge amount of power, even the Clan as a whole would be feeling the effects right now.
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  “Shoot them,” a male voice roared, just above her head. “Pick up your guns and shoot.” A male form swung lithely off a raised platform, somersaulting before landing neatly on the top corner of the cage, balancing on the narrow silver struts, one hand steadying him, in a position Gabi would’ve sworn was impossible for a human to maintain. The man didn’t even look to have broken a sweat, the tattoos down his face and neck leered and grimaced, and his smooth scalp gleamed dully in the bright lighting.

  “Well, hello, Darkstalker,” Gabi muttered. His expression was one of exhilaration, not fear or stress or shock at the appearance of the Vampires.

  “Pick up the fucking guns and shoot them,” he repeated. “Mastermind, keep the cameras rolling. This is fucking amazing.” He was yelling at the chubby, bespectacled guy still huddled in the protection of the electronic hub. The humans were recovering from their shock, searching for their weapons, but the Vampires were quicker. Two more humans began to collapse as darts found their mark.

  Outside, the storm broke, lightning flashing through nearby windows and thunder booming over the roof, rattling the rafters and catwalks.

  A trio of bullets flashed past Gabi’s right ear, making her duck. She spun and dived for cover, but quickly regained her feet, her MacDart steady and aimed. She searched the chaos of bodies for a direct shot at Mr Glasses. She growled as she realised her spot put a thick steel girder directly between her and her quarry. A flash of movement caught her attention and she quickly shifted her aim for Darkstalker, who was now clear in her sights. She flinched minutely just as she pulled the trigger, another volley of bullets had hit Julius, and the dart bounced harmlessly off the edge of Darkstalker’s thick leather vest instead of embedding in his neck. His eyes swung instantly to find her as a handgun appeared in his hand. She darted for another point of cover a few metres to her left, closer to Mr Glasses. As she stuck her nose out of concealment to take aim, a bullet skimmed off the metal bracket next to her right ear, and the ricochet sliced a cut into her cheek. She hissed in pain.