“Yes, Captain.” Riot saluted as she left the room. In all honesty, the meeting had gone better than she had expected, minus the part about going into space or having to travel with Miss Peppy. But Captain Harlan hadn’t given her a definite ‘no’ to her request for squad mates, so there was still a chance.
Riot made her way back to the elevator and headed for the sixth floor where the mess hall and barracks were located. Her mind was working on overdrive as she exited the elevator and headed down the white halls to the room she had used on her previous visit to the Bulwark.
What’re you getting yourself into? Riot paused at the entrance to her assigned room. There were two voices she recognized, talking inside.
“You can ask about my eye,” Vet was saying in his usual low tone, slow way of speaking, “it’s all right. I’ve seen you looking at it.”
“Oh, no, that would be rude.” Miller’s voice penetrated through the cracked door. “But if you want to talk about it, what happened?”
“Took a piece of Syndicate shrapnel to the face. I thought I was dead. There was so much blood pouring out of my right eye, it was making seeing out of my left impossible.” Vet chuckled, remembering the event as if it were a comedy that somehow had a happy ending. “I was stumbling back to where I thought our lines were, but I was actually heading right into Syndicate fire. I could feel my right eyeball still attached to the inside of my head, slapping against my cheek and shattered helmet.”
“Oh my.” Miller made a gagging sound. “You don’t have to say any—”
“The only reason I’m alive is because Riot—”
“Hey, what’s going on in here, kiddos?” Riot had heard enough. She had no desire to relive the event of Vet’s story. “Exchanging stories of what we want to be when we grow up? Cool. I want to be Batman.”
“Batman?” Deborah asked, scrunching her brow. “You mean that vintage comic hero?”
“Riot’s rubbed off on all of us.” Vet smiled at her as she walked in. “Her love for the classics are kind of an inside joke. To be honest, it’s because of her I like superheroes, old music, and movies now.”
Riot gave him a nod, then glanced around at the small chamber made up of four brick walls painted white. There were bunks to her right, a single bed on her left, and dressers against the far wall. The bathroom would be a shared experience somewhere farther down the hall.
“How did the meeting go?” Vet asked, rising from the bottom half of the bunk bed. “Did Captain Harlan tell you why we’re here?”
Riot nodded, the entire time looking over at Deborah. She took a seat on the single bed with a heavy sigh. “He did, but I’m thinking Miller is better suited to answer any questions you might have.”
“Are we going to get alien tech at any point?” Vet looked up at Deborah, who stood beside him with her arms crossed over her chest. “Tell me that’s happening sometime soon.”
“Yes,” Deborah said, looking from Riot to Vet and back again. “We’ll be equipped with the very latest technology we’ve captured from the Syndicate. Once we’ve filled out the roster, I plan on giving you an in-depth breakdown of our mission.”
“I can wait for all the details, once we have our team.” Riot began unlacing her combat boots. “But I would like an answer to at least one of the dozen questions bouncing around in my head. Where’re we going? I mean, I know we're going into space to try to gain allies. But what planet? Who’s going to be there waiting for us?”
“Did you just say we’re going into space?” Vet scratched the underside of his jaw. “I guess I should have been expecting that.”
“We’re exploring the stars.” Riot kicked off her boots. “Better pack a large bag of Huggies for the trip.”
“Don’t worry.” Vet scowled deeper, or maybe that was just his face. “I already changed.”
“Good.” Riot looked back to Deborah. “Spill the beans, sister. Where are we going, and who are we planning to meet?”
“We’ll be traveling faster than the speed of light to a planet called Hoydron, just outside of our galaxy. There, we’ll meet with a species named the Trilords. They’re the ones who control that planet.”
“Why?” Riot asked, not knowing for sure if she wanted to know the answer. “Why there, why them?”
Deborah cleared her throat, studying the far wall as if suddenly something was extremely interesting in the plain, white paint. “We need strong allies. If the information the Syndicate left was correct, they’re amongst the fiercest warriors in the universe.”
6
“If he does anything stupid, it’s on you.” Captain Harlan waited side by side with Riot just outside of a confinement cell in level eight of the Bulwark. “I’ve learned to trust my gut over the years and, so help me God, it says to turn Wang over to your care.”
Riot had woken to a quick breakfast and a trip down a private elevator with Captain Harlan to level eight. To her wonder, in the private elevator, she noticed an extra three levels, eight through ten, that were not displayed on any of the other elevators she had used during her time at the Bulwark.
The brig level was exactly like the rest of the underground compound, except with bars. White walls gave way to white ceilings with bright, white lights. Soldiers patrolled up and down the catwalks, monitoring the cells. A special wing set against the far wall was reserved for the very best and brightest of the bunch—solitary confinement.
They now stood outside of a closed door that was bolted shut. A pair of Marines waited for the order to be given to open the cell door.
“All through the night and up until this very morning, I was prepared to give you Corporal Rizzo and not Wang.” Captain Harlan didn’t look at Riot. Instead, he stared at the white cell door in front of them. “Then I realized something. If I trust you enough to send you into space to guard our emissary, then I need to trust you enough to choose your own team. Why you want him is beyond me, but I believe in you, Riot, so he’s yours.”
“Thank you, Captain.” Riot turned her gaze from the door to look over at the captain. “I won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t.” Captain Harlan maintained his vigil on the closed steel door. “That’s why you were my one choice for this mission. You’re not the fastest, you’re not the strongest or the smartest I’ve ever run into, but you possess the willpower of a legend. You’ve always found a way to get the job done. I don’t expect you to start failing now.”
“I won’t.”
“Open it up.” Captain Harlan motioned to the guards on either side of the door. “Let her in.”
As one, the Marines on duty each produced a keycard from the inside of the pocket on the front of their shirts. A low beep came from the door as they swiped their keycards in unison across the digital screen. A series of locks clicked open, and a moment later, the door swung open.
Riot took a step into the plain room. A toilet, a sink, and a cot were the only pieces of furniture, with a stack of books the only other thing in the room. Wang lay on his bed, his head obscured by some kind of Space Marine novel by Chris Fox.
“Is that room service? You can just leave the food on the ground,” Wang’s chipper voice rang out from somewhere behind his book. “No requests today, outside of the usual. I’ll take a tall blonde and about a dozen Adderall.”
“Wang, what’re you doing with your life?” Riot shook her head, looking at the waste of talent in front of her. “Put your freaking Space Marine book down.”
“Riot?” Wang inched the novel below his eyes to see if the voice had been in his imagination, and his eyes widened when he saw her standing in his cell. He jumped off his cot, searching for the page number he was on before closing the book. “Are we getting the band back together again? What are you doing here?”
“Getting you out of the brig, apparently.” Again Riot shook her head at Wang, this time so he understood the severity of the situation. “What are you thinking? What are you doing?”
The smile faded from Wang’s
lips as he caught sight of Captain Harlan’s frame behind Riot. He raised a heavily tattooed arm to scratch the Mohawk buzz that ran across his scalp. He looked tired, worn in a way Riot understood. Physically, he was in top shape, with a toned, athletic body, though his eyes told a different story.
“I know, I know.” Wang let the remainder of the boyish grin die on his lips. “I’ve been out of control. Stationed here at the Bulwark, I was going crazy with cabin fever. We’re wolves, Riot; we were meant to run and be free. I guess I let out that bit of crazy inside of me a little too often in the last few months.”
Riot nodded along with his words. She could relate to him, especially the part about needing to run free. The Marines loved them because they were animals, but there was a fine line that always needed to be maintained.
“Listen, I get it.” Riot looked hard into Wang’s eyes. “There’s an opportunity to do something special, something big just ahead of us. I want you on my team, but I need to know that you’re with it. I need the Wang who saved countless lives during the war with the Syndicate. I need the medic on my team who was the only one in his class to score hand-to-hand combat skills with the best the Marines had to offer. I need you to be the best version of yourself you can be with the scalpel and the combat knife.”
“I’m good, I’m with you.” Wang stood at attention, his back rigid. “I won’t let you down, Riot. Not you, never you.”
“Good.” Riot finally broke and gave Wang a brief grin. “Give me a moment.”
Wang nodded.
Riot turned to address the captain, who was standing behind her, listening to the exchange. His arms were behind his back, his face expressionless to the point he would be the envy of any professional card shark.
“He’s straight.” Riot nodded to the captain. “I’ll make sure he stays that way.”
“I know you will.” Captain Harlan reached into his pants pocket and handed Riot a folded piece of paper. “The sooner we get you your squad assembled, the sooner we can start your training. Here’s the address where you’ll find Corporal Rizzo. Apparently, he’s on leave in a city called Camarillo, a few miles from here. Get him and bring him back.”
“Thank you, Captain.” Riot accepted the piece of folded paper with a tight salute. “We’ll be back by nightfall, ready to train first thing in the morning.”
“That sounds about right.” Captain Harlan eyed Wang, who was stacking all of his books in a neat pile so that he could carry them all at once. “I think it’s understood, but I want there to be no misinterpretation: if your squad can’t pass the training set up for them, they’re off the mission.”
“Do you guys have like a box or a bag or something I can carry these books in?” Wang popped his head out of his cell to look at the two Marines still standing guard on either side of his chamber. “Anything? Like, even a plastic bag would be fine.”
The two Marines standing at attention on either side of the cell didn’t even look at Wang or giving him the slightest inclination they had recognized his presence.
“I know you guys can hear me.” Wang rolled his eyes and went back to figuring out a way to stack and carry the rest of his novels. “I’m standing, like, three feet away from you.”
“I understand, Captain.” Riot winced as Wang went on and on and on about finding a bag to place his novels in. “We’ll make it happen.”
“Good.” Captain Harlan gave Wang one final glare over Riot’s shoulder before turning to leave. “I’ll expect to see your unit first thing in the morning, ready to train.”
Wang stood beside Riot with a mountain of books. The tattoos that covered the medic’s arms, the science fiction books he carried, all spoke to different parts of his personality.
“So, where are we headed to pick up Rizzo?” Wang eyed the piece of folded white paper in Riot’s hand. “Disneyland?”
“Let’s see.” Riot unfolded the piece of paper. In Captain Harlan’s perfect hand was written a name of an establishment and an address. Riot didn’t recognize either, but it appeared Wang was familiar with the business.
“The Pit.” Wang grinned from ear to ear. “I’ve been known to frequent that bar. We’ll need civilian clothes and weapons, lots of weapons.”
7
Riot drove past crumbling buildings, derelict housing tracks, and the occasional passing vehicle. Ever since the Syndicate had been defeated, the world was a different place. Police enforcement had been halved, most of the officers joining to fight the Syndicate, the rest choosing to stay home and protect their families.
Coming out of the other end of the war meant not every officer chose to come back to duty. Riot couldn’t blame them. They faced an uphill battle. Gang activity was at an all-time high and martial law ruled the streets.
There was no love for law enforcement by most and even less for military-enrolled men and women. It was ironic that the very people Riot fought to protect would look at her with eyes either full of fear or disdain.
According to Wang, the bar they were going to, called The Pit, was a haven for known gang members. They were heavily into everything from drugs to prostitution to gun running. Riot hated the idea of going in undercover in civilian clothing; however, if it meant a few less dead and a few more alive to combat this real threat that would test humanity, she was on board.
“Don’t we look like the three amigos?” Wang spread his arms out on the bench behind Riot and Vet. “I almost feel human again. Gotta love these clothes.”
Riot took her eyes off the road for a moment to examine the clothing Deborah had provided for her. She had chosen plain blue jeans and a white top. Aviators hid her eyes, and her shoulder-length brown hair was tied behind her. If she was honest with herself, it did feel good.
Wang sat in the back in shorts and a Hawaiian print shirt. Vet sat next to her in a hoodie and black jeans. They had all chosen to wear their combat boots. Life just didn’t feel the same without them.
Vet nodded along with Wang’s words, the two already falling back into the familiar feel of their relationship, Wang doing most of the talking, Vet scowling and nodding along.
“When we get there, we’re leaving the heavy firepower in the jeep unless things get bad.” Riot looked into the rearview mirror so Wang understood she was talking to him. “Small firearms only when we go in. Let’s find Rizzo and head back to base before anyone can get hurt.”
“Why’re you just looking at me?” Wang pulled down his Oakley sunglasses. “I feel like I’m being discriminated against, here.”
“That’s because you are.” Riot shook her head, hiding a smile. “Save your aggression for the real enemy. Keep it in your pants, and that small arsenal sitting in the duffel beside you in the jeep. Am I understood?”
“Understood, Master Sergeant.” Wang saluted her through the rearview mirror. “Beretta only.”
“Understood.” Vet looked down at the tablet in front of him that tracked their movement through GPS. They were blocks from the bar. “Next right, and it’ll be on your left at the end of the block.”
Riot followed the directions, pulling into a dirt parking lot. There was no sign over the paint-chipped building, but there was no doubt they were in the right place. More than a dozen motorcycles ranging from Harley Davidsons to Triumphs were lined up against the front of the building.
Rock-and-roll music wafted from inside. Riot put the jeep in park, angling the vehicle away from the building in case they needed to get away in a hurry. She jumped out of the jeep.
Her hand touched the cold piece of metal at her lower back. The handle of her Beretta felt like an old friend. It didn’t feel quite as good as having Vet and Wang by her side, but good just the same.
“We go in, get Rizzo, and then get out,” Riot reminded her men. She strode over the dirt ground, her boots making heavy imprints in the loose soil.
Riot opened the door and entered a scene she had been expecting all along. Once you’d been to a handful of seedy bars, you’d been to them all—the poor
lighting, the bar on one end of the room with the battered stools, and a mix of tables and chairs throughout.
What Riot wasn’t expecting at the moment was how many people there were inside. A mix of more than two dozen faces stared at them as they walked inside, mostly muscled bikers eyeing them down, sizing them up as victims, or something else.
Riot walked to the bar, not staring at anyone in particular yet canvasing the area, all the same. Besides the bikers, there were a handful of drug addicts with tracks on their arms, sunken cheeks, and ruined teeth. And, of course, a bar wouldn’t be the same without a few alcoholics thrown into the mix for good measure.
Apart from the large, open space, a pair of bathrooms sat in the far corner, while a small room sat in the back.
“What’ll you be having?” the bald bartender asked, eyeing the trio of newcomers with clear suspicion.
“Actually, we’re looking for someone,” Riot started, doing one last quick sweep over her shoulder to make sure she wasn’t missing Rizzo somewhere in the mix. “Have you seen a big black guy? You wouldn’t be able to miss him. He’s built like a linebacker with—”
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Gunshots came from the small room in the back.
“Never mind,” Riot said to the bartender as she drew her weapon. “I think we found him.”
8
After the small-arm gunfire went off in the back room, two things happened at once: the door to the room flung open and Rizzo sprinted for the exit, a battered Glock 17 in his right hand, while nearly everyone in the room stood up, reaching for their own weapons, Riot and her team included. The few crackheads and alcoholics who hadn’t come armed jumped from their seats, only to hunker down and wait out whatever was happening.
Bring the Thunder (War Wolves Book 1) Page 3