Steel-Winged Valkyrie (Lady Hellgate Book 5) by Greg Dragon

Author:Greg Dragon [Dragon, Greg]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Thirsty Bird Productions
Published: 2021-08-04T16:00:00+00:00

19

With two officers missing, BasPol quickly exited the tenements, a move which meant they were likely to return with the Marines in tow. For several long hours inside Fio’s apartment, the Nighthawks busied themselves with preparation for an evening raid on Garson Sunveil’s compound. From the location given by the BasPol men earlier, the compound was located north of the tenements, close enough for them to walk.

They each took turns watching the door, weapons live and at the ready. The others passed the time training or staring out the window at the crowds surrounding the market. With BasPol gone, it was all back to normal, the only shouts coming from the vendors hocking their supplies. Cilas called Ursula, updated Fio, and spoke at length with Ina Reysor about the status of the crew.

When the sun went down, its light replaced by streetlamps, they were all geared up in their composite armor, concealed by their wet, hooded cloaks. The loadout was auto-rifles and sidearms, but Raileo Lei brought his OKAGI “Widow Maker” Sniper.

On the streets, the rain picked up once again, and brought with it a wind that chilled them to the bone. Cilas took them off the main road into a tight alleyway and onto another that was identical to the first, though with much less people and lights. Hunched close together, they stuck to the sidewalks, every head on a swivel, with hands tucked below the flaps of their cloaks, gripping their weapons.

Many of the people they passed were curious, but not enough to impede them. Helga expected to see Thrall’s runners shadowing them to keep them safe so their boss could make good on his word. She realized they hadn’t been there earlier, and wondered if they had been the ones shooting it out with the officers. Cilas moved like a man possessed, and her short legs were struggling to keep up with him and Quentin Tutt.

“Some sort of party going on up ahead,” Quentin reported, his tall frame giving him a vantage above the crowd. There was the sound of broken glass, shouts rising above the music and rain, an explosion followed by gunfire, and the familiar uniforms of BasPol flanked by soldiers dressed in Alliance Marine armor. Cilas grabbed Quentin before Helga could reach him, the two of them knowing he’d fly into a rage at the treachery of those men.

“Take this alley,” Cilas instructed, shoving him to the side of a once-busy bar, whose blue sign illuminated the surprisingly empty alleyway. Looking up, Helga had a moment of reflection, seeing the exterior walls of the buildings that sandwiched them, stretched up and up, seeming to go on forever. Twelve stories of cracked, concrete plaster with bridges, wires and pipelines crisscrossed above them, obstructing the rain.

Raileo ran forward to work at opening the lock, and the other four Nighthawks hugged the building’s sides, watching the entrance. The Marines were still shooting. It sounded ominous, and not three times did Helga look to see if Cilas noticed it.

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