I sat up a fraction. Gestured to Spy. I touched my forehead.
She gave me a look that said,Are you crazy? It was a real scowl, as human an expression as a cat face could make.
I nodded.
Spy’s eyes narrowed. She looked at the doors and back to me, stood, and walked gracefully to me across the beam. She stepped on my outstretched legs, padding up my abdomen and to my face. She was close enough to scratch out my eyes before I could blink. Inside my armor my body tensed. She didn’t touch my head, letting her eyes and body talk for her.
“Sisssss,” she said.I’m pissed.It was followed by a nearly silent growl that meant, “Hunt and kill.”
Quietly, under the cover of the whine of bikes and the rumble of the approaching truck, I said, “Can one of the other cats disable the bikes? Shred or bite a line, puncture a tire?” I tried to picture a brake line but I wasn’t very good at cat ESP, or whatever this form of communication was.
“Orrrowmerow.”
Sawyer looked up and frowned.
Spy leaned in and let her forehead touch mine. I wasn’t sure how she did it, but Spy sent me a mental image of the taste of brake fluid which was horrific, and was accompanied with the image of a dead cat.
I leaned back in shock, breaking the contact, met her eyes, and thought,Yeah. That is a bad thing. Sorry I mentioned it.I leaned in again, thinking about electronics, and sent her an image of a cat spraying urine over sensitive panels on the bikes. Might help. Might not. Would certainly make the bike disgusting for the rider.
Spy chuffed and agreed, saying, “Hhhhah mmm.” She added, “Kkkkk,”and licked her jaw like cleaning good protein off it, and sent me an image of salmon. I sent her back an image of canned salmon.
Her lips curled, and she gave a chuff-puff of sound that meant,You are disgusting.
I sent an image of a piece of Anse’s whitefish.
Spy sent a purr of sound and said, “Hhhhah mmm.”
“It’s a deal,” I sent to her. I had completed another bargain with a junkyard cat. If I reneged on the deal, she and Tuffs’ Destruction of Cats would kill and eat me. I knew that.
Turning, Spy leaped and dropped from the rafter, landing in front of Sawyer, who jumped a foot. Spy gave him a smug look and padded to the door, batting it with a paw. Sawyer pushed open the door, and she disappeared into the night. He shook his head in fear or wonder.
Crotch rockets and the box truck pulled into the small parking area. Their rides went silent. On my morphon, I watched the ARVAC’s display as riders dismounted. One of the riders opened the passenger door and yanked out a form. Vaguely female and alive, was all I could get on the near IR and low-light glimpse. The ARVAC would have to fly a lot lower to see more.
Exhaust and the cold night air blew in as one rider entered the church, looked around, nodded to fake Anse, and returned to the others.
Over my team’s private channel, I heard from the open doorway, “He’s there. Alone. No signs of others.”
“Check in every two minutes,” another voice said. “Take out anyone who shows up even if it’s kids looking for a place to neck. We’ll be back in five.”
Three heavily weaponed riders and the driver of the truck entered the foyer, the driver pulling a girl on a leash. Fury shot through me.Bastard.
Four warriors. A girl. Hopefully Eloise. The moment she saw Sawyer, she’d know it wasn’t her father. This was one of only a couple dozen weaknesses in our plan.
Into my comms, Jolene said, “ARVAC shows the other truck and six riders gearing up.”
FUBAR, I thought. We haven’t blown the tanks, and they’re exfiling. Or heading back to the crossroads.Bloody hell.But first things first.
I was cloaked. Sawyer was in a dark corner. Best we could do.
They entered the sanctuary, the dim light illuminating them and the girl.
The girl didn’t look as if she had been beaten. Was walking okay. Good signs. She wasn’t blindfolded. A medium dark-skinned teenager with long curly hair. Pretty. Arms bound. Wrists bleeding from rope burns where she had struggled.
The small group spread out as the man with the girl passed Sawyer and turned back to him. They were two and half meters into the room, one meter to my side. I could drop on them easy. But we wanted more than them dead.
“You got the comms device?” one of the riders asked.
Sawyer opened his jacket, revealing the dark gray hemp-plaz casing of Jolene’s missing comms part in a pocket. Sawyer said, “Your mama Martha says she’s waiting for you at home.”
