The supervisor hasn’t even noticed what’s happened. It takes no time for Ben to stride over, grabbing him from behind and cutting off his airway just long enoughto knock him out without doing permanent brain damage.
Ben is the only person I’ve ever trusted to make that particular move.
“What the fuck—” Harris finally chokes out.
I’m still aiming his gun at him. After Ben lowers the supervisor’s body to the ground, he finds cuffs to put on Harris and the unconscious supervisor and drags them both into the one closet in the room. He closes and bars the door.
Handing Ben the gun, I use the supervisor’s radio, changing the channel so I can check in with our three teams.
Everything is going according to plan. Vella got grazed by a bullet when one of the guards on the south side had better aim in the dark than expected. But it’s nothing serious, and she and two others effectively diverted attention to the wrong side.
The other teams have taken out all the perimeter guards on the other side and are closing ranks to deal with those left on the south.
I nod toward Ben, who’s returned from checking the other rooms of the building.
“I rounded up the guys on break and put ’em in the jail cell,” he tells me. “So now we’re clear.”
I don’t relax yet since my people are still in danger, but there’s hope this mission will go as smoothly as we planned.
I know better than to think such things.
Tempt the universe, and it will always, always prove you wrong.
Ben is standing at the big window in the command station, peering into the dark to see as much of the action as possible, when the door to the command station gets kicked open.
A new guard, evidently having just arrived for duty to find the outpost under attack.
He takes in the situation faster than I would have expected. Before Ben has even turned all the way around, the guard is aiming his weapon.
At Ben.Ben.
I act without thinking, dropping the radio and throwing myself on the guard just in time to divert his aim from Ben.
The bullet fires harmlessly into a cabinet.
But the guard is twice as big as I am, and he throws me off him forcefully. I’m tossed a surprisingly long distance and fall in a painful heap on the floor.
Ben advances with a roar. He’s still holding the gun, so he could have simply shot the other man, but he doesn’t. He attacks, tackling the guard to the floor.
It happens too fast for me to identify specific moves, but when Ben gets up less than a minute later, the guard is disarmed and unconscious.
I shake my head at him as I heft myself back to my feet. Talk about an unnecessary waste of effort.
Ben’s eyes narrow as he glares at me.
He’s angry. With me.
I know why.
I don’t have time to deal with it at the moment because Vella is reporting in again. My ankle twisted under me when I hit the floor earlier. It hurts, and Ben is over there bristling.
But it’s done. Everything we needed to happen did. The other teams are heading toward us, having shot a few of the guards that wouldn’t surrender and rounded up all the others. Vella’s graze and my twisted ankle are the only injuries.
We’ve done it.
I’d be happier if Ben weren’t still mad at me.
3
