Kyle’s sniper rifle was impossible not to hear as it went off again and again. Katie hummed under her breath. “Those better not be head shots, Reaper.”
“Of course not, Viper.”
Trevor snorted. “Right.”
Boonsboro was a small town of a couple thousand people skirting the poverty line if they weren’t already well below it. People out here knew when to keep out of other people’s business. Because of that mentality, the Sons of Adam had been able to build a small compound under the guise of a marksmanship training business. In reality, it was a base for their illegal activities.
They’ve got a munitions bunker full of stolen explosives. May want to hold off on the bombs, Nova, Sean said through Katie’s telepathic link that connected everyone’s minds.
“Aw, that’s just unfair of those bastards,” Madison said.
“Keep that area covered, Wraith,” Jamie ordered. “Tank, see if you can’t find any other weapons stashes.”
We’ll make sure these assholes can’t reach any of their supplies, Apollo, Donovan promised.
Madison pulled back from a direct attack, leaving the front open. Trevor solidified his telekinetic shield a little more and jerked his thumb at the smoldering ruins of the compound entrance. “Shall we?”
Katie’s smile was shark-like beneath her tactical goggles. “Lead the way.”
Trevor and Katie were used to fighting in the field together. As the only telekinetic, Trevor couldn’t lift mass for very long the way Annabelle could with her anti-gravity power, but his shields could stop military grade missile strikes. The effort gave him a headache sometimes, but the pain was worth making sure his team was safe. Katie’s power was mental in nature, which came with its own set of drawbacks. Trevor had spent years making sure she was protected while she wielded her telepathy.
“We have twenty-five enemy combatants—” The loud report of Kyle’s rifle cut Katie off, and she sighed. “Make that twenty-four that are left.”
“All right, let’s give them hell,” Jamie said.
Trevor and Katie went for a frontal assault, bullets ricocheting off of Trevor’s telekinetic shield. They darted around hot metal and concrete debris, entering the compound with their weapons raised.
The attack in the spring and the fallout seemed to have depleted the Sons of Adam’s ranks. Trevor had expected the compound to be teeming with fighters. Instead, it was manned by a paltry few dozen who were no match for a team of metahumans with a grudge.
Despite being months off the field, clearing the compound was easy. Katie could control minds a few people at a time, and those she subdued, Trevor secured with his telekinesis. They were the first ones to make it to the center where what passed for the compound’s command center was located.
The door was locked. Trevor telekinetically tore the heavy steel barrier right out of the walls. He tossed it behind them, the ground vibrating from its landing. His telekinetic shield deflected the bullets the pair of men got off before Katie invaded their minds.
Trevor’s attention locked on a vaguely familiar-looking man dressed in an old military uniform. Trevor wrapped his telekinesis around them, anchoring the two in place, and Katie let their minds go.
“Control room secured,” she said into the comms.
Free of her control, the two men glared blearily at them. Trevor stepped close to Samuel Hawthorne, Elliot’s older brother, the man who was behind the attacks on Brendan.
Trevor punched him so hard Samuel lost a couple of teeth.
“Feel better?” Katie asked, already hacking her way into the computers.
Trevor cracked his knuckles before turning to train his weapon on the door to cover their only way out. “Yeah.”
He’d have felt better about bringing Samuel back in a body bag, but sometimes getting justice meant letting the law bury a man. Trevor could live with that, so long as Samuel got a death sentence.
12
Washington, D.C.
USA
Brendan looked awayfrom the news stream about the latest destroyed Sons of Adam terrorist cell as the front door to Trevor’s apartment slid open and the man himself came home. The trio of MDF agents who’d been keeping Brendan company for the past thirty-two hours got up from the dining table and immediately started to pack up.
“Hey,” Brendan said. “Welcome back.”
Trevor was wearing the exact same clothes he’d left in the other day, but they didn’t look wrinkled or dirty. Brendan couldn’t smell his cologne though when Trevor came over to kiss him hello, only a faint whiff of harsh soap.
