The Icarus Squad.I wrinkle my nose at the name. When General Nolan pulled me from a particularly heinous mission I’d just returned from and said he had a vision for something new, I never could’ve imagined it would be this. Turns out he’s been putting secret squads together for some time. It makes my stomach turn, wondering how many of us, disposables as he put it, are out there. Would we even know when our time is up? Our only source of communication to home base is through Nolan.
And of all the superior officers, I trust him the least. The crooked chain of command is General Nolan and Captain Bridger at the top—men who made it clear they have no problem getting rid of squads that don’t perform well.
I’ve delivered on every single one of his orders. Because that’s what I fucking do, I get shit done so that my squad gets to see another day. But I didn’t expect him to change the direction of our mission so suddenly yesterday.
A bead of sweat rolls down my temple as I think about the ruthless general. I don’t trust anyone. We’ve all learned the hard way at some point in our lives not to trust entirely. Unfortunately, it’s my Achilles’ heel. You have to trust your squadmates one hundred percent when you’re in the field. And that ship sailed a long time ago for me.
Even now. I don’t know if I can trust Icarus without a shadow of a doubt. Not after what I endured to get into the Dark Forces.
A flash of Dalton’s face flickers through my mind. Opening old wounds in my heart that I thought had long since iced over. I don’t feel things the way I’m supposed to anymore. I never entirely did, to be frank. But after losing Dalton in the Under Trials because I trusted… No. I shake my head to ward off the memories. I’ll never forget how shitty that felt and how the last of my humanity slipped away with him.
How I let down my only friend and had to become a vile man for it.
Bensen taps on his beer can, and the sound draws me from my thoughts.
John smirks and tosses a black fabric mask to Gale. “At least they have friendly people out here to hook up with. I grew up in the city, and no one will even bother smiling at you there. Everyone is too dissociated and miserable. I can’t help that I want to get to know some of the locals,” John comments, pulling his own mask up too.
I blink, dumbfounded that I spaced out for a second. The stress of keeping this mission on track and giving Nolan what he demands has been weighing on me. The guys don’t know that if we don’t provide results tonight, proving that we’re getting closer to uncovering the black-market, aka “underworld,” gate here, our time is up.
We’ll be terminated.
Nolan’s voice was so sharp last night, I can still hear it:“I’ve received word that there’s a little package being delivered to the Thornton Farm tonight. It’s your ticket into the underworld, Syxx. Do not fuck this up.”
He didn’t say it was a fucking young woman.
He knew I would’ve spoken up about it if he disclosed over the phone that the “package” was a person. I’m heartless, but unnecessary deaths are starting to seep into my dreams.
This is his way of shoving it down my throat.I scared her away, though.The general can’t be upset if the package never arrived in Bane Falls, now can he?
She surprised me with her attitude. It’s been a long time since I’ve met a wild one like her, and yet when she went slack and stared up at me like she wanted to see the worst of me… I shake my head, dismissing the girl’s pretty face from my mind, and put on my mask.
She’s gone. That’s all that matters.
We have to be more discreet out here since a group of special ops soldiers would stick out like a sore thumb. So we play the small-town bad-boy group angle. And as stupid as it sounds, it works. A little too well, actually. I mean, the townsfolk are gullible to begin with, but they are the perfect cover for anything. I can see why Sub-Rosa chose this place as their base. Everything they do is hidden under hay bales and stalks of corn.
And crowded parties in the goddamn hills.
Since we’re pretty muscular, it fits that we all work at the auto shop and stay here. No one suspects a thing.
Taylor was an engineer in his past life before he turned to a life of crime a few years after he graduated. So luckily for us, he was able to be assigned to our squad and makes pretty cool shit for us that blends in with the norm.
I grin at the motorcycle helmets that are bulletproof and fully equipped with speakers. According to Bensen, if we can’t rock out to our favorite songs when we either kill or be killed, then he doesn’t see a point. I get it, but at the same time, it’s incredibly distracting.
Nolan doesn’t give a shit about us, so I don’t see the point in not letting my men enjoy their time as much as they can, while they can. The design of the helmet is flawless, slick, and we go unnoticed—passed off as some rowdy assholes that like to drive around fast and cause trouble.
Our pants and jackets have concealed pockets for our weapons too. Likewise, our vehicles are equipped with hidden compartments.
Tonight they’re all riding out on the crotch rockets, so they don’t look weird stepping out of cars with their helmets on. I always take the Mercedes to the parties, though, and tonight is no exception. I haven’t missed a race since we arrived, and if I skip out, it will stand out. We don’t have any room for doubt or error—not after building the townspeople’s trust this far.
Taylor grins at me and stares down at his hand as he twirls a wrench. “You know, that girl last night was actually really sweet. You didn’t have to be so mean to her and scare her off. She wasn’t going to stick around for long anyway,” he says with a flat tone, but his eyes are filled with amusement. Taylor’s always a little too curious for his own good.
“Yeah, what was your deal with her? You haven’t done that to anyone else we bring around.” John sounds more annoyed than the rest. He seemed to be really awed by her compared to the others.
I don’t want to tell them about Thornton’s Farm and her being a package mentioned by the general. Not yet.
Nolan said that the man who owned that farm and died recently was a sleeper agent—a soldier who lived a normal life undercover until he was called upon for duty. He had knowledge of something so important that Nolan won’t even trust me with it. I guess he’s been burned by those he trusts before too.
I question whether Nolan had Arnold killed or if Sub-Rosa got to him first. Who sent his niece to clean the property? It weighs heavily on my mind, that girl and her stupid fearless eyes. I haven’t had to pull my KA-BAR on someone to spook them in a long,longtime.
