Nomad's Justice by Craig Martelle & Michael Anderle

Author:Craig Martelle & Michael Anderle [Martelle, Craig]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LMBPN Publishing
Published: 2017-04-09T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

North Chicago

When Mark returned to the lakeshore in the morning with a hot drink that passed for coffee, he found Ivan on the ground, head on a rock, and sound asleep. Mark looked at the lake in the light of the false dawn.

The waves gently lapped the shore. He was instantly tired, but shook himself, then kicked Ivan’s foot.

The other man yawned and stretched. “I closed my eyes just for a moment. What time is it?”

“Morning,” Mark said, getting angrier by the moment, but he wasn’t mad at Ivan. He was angry with himself for not setting up a proper watch.

“Damn!” Ivan said, standing up and stretching some more. “Is that for me? Thanks!”

He seemed indifferent to the fact that he slept through his watch.

“We won’t put this all on you from now on. You can’t be sleeping on watch, Ivan.” Mark stomped his feet as he walked back and forth, destroying the serenity of the morning. “Fuck, man! The colonel would kill you if he knew. He’d kill both of us. You left us vulnerable, you ass!”

“Come on, Mark, you’re damaging my calm. I’m not sure the last time I slept like that. I feel like a rutting buck!” Ivan smiled and then pounded his chest with his fists.

“Dammit, Ivan. Just keep watch until I can set something up. Stay awake until I get back.” Mark looked over his shoulder at the lake, watching for any signs of movement. He looked north and south and didn’t see anything. He shook his head and decided that he’d keep his miscue a secret.

Grumbling to himself, he walked briskly toward the barracks.

***

Queens, New York

“Come on, Gene, they’re in trouble!” Terry yelled as he jumped through the hole in the wall and hit the sidewalk running. Gene plowed through the hole after Terry and hit the pavement hard. He was up to speed in no time.

***

“Come on!” Char yelled, vaulting over an old dresser and bounding up the stairs three at a time. Jim didn’t question the order; he simply followed. Eldie was still upstairs and she yelled at him, too.

She raced out the front door where she met Terry in the street. He nodded, but didn’t slow down.

The five ran toward the sound of gunfire.

Terry waved at them to spread out, present less of a target than moving as a mob.

“Hey!” Sergeant James yelled at them from a second story window.

Terry slowed to a walk, then stopped. The firing continued from up ahead, beyond the fields. He was momentarily confused. He’d thought Sergeant James and his team had been engaged, but the FDG warriors were secure.

“Well, fuck,” Terry said, running for the cover of the building. Char and Gene took two steps and stopped.

“No fucking way,” Gene bellowed in his heavy Russian accent.

“You guys holed up in an outhouse?” Terry called to James.

“We’re coming down,” James said.

No one argued with him. One by one, the four men descended as the fire escape loudly complained. They jumped to the ground and ran out front to meet the colonel and the others.

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