The Flight of the Silvers (Silvers #1)(180)

—

Rebel dropped his rifle against the wall and scratched his stubbly head. He’d dressed for battle like he was going to the gym—black T-shirt and sweatpants, white high-top sneakers. He didn’t bother with the bandana mask this time. His wife had commandeered all the security cameras an hour ago while Mercy Lee flooded the lobby with enough solic static to ensure that the Deps wouldn’t see a thing in their ghost drills. They’d taken a day and a half to set this trap. Everything had gone flawlessly until forty-one seconds ago.

He pressed his collar mic and summoned his team back to his perch on the mezzanine. One by one, they returned—four men and one woman, each from a different family. They were all inexperienced in long-range weapons, but desperate times had motivated them to learn.

Freddy Ballad, a tall and stringy blond of twenty, threw his hands up in fluster. “What happened?”

Rebel shrugged his broad shoulders. “Maranan got wise.”

“Gemma said the augur wouldn’t be a problem.”

The shrill voice of a ten-year-old girl hissed through their earpieces. “I said he probably wouldn’t be a problem.”

Freddy snarled into his mic. “It’s your job to be sure.”

“And it was your job to shoot the Aussie before he pulled any ghost tricks. How did that work out?”

“Enough,” Rebel snapped. “Freddy, settle down. Gemma, I don’t want to hear another word out of you unless it’s intel.”

“I’m working on it.”

With a hot blast of air, Bruce Byer de-shifted at the edge of their gathering, flushed with exertion and rage.

“You idiots could have shot me!”

Rebel frowned. He knew Bruce was a self-serving coward, like all Byers. But he was a skilled actor who strongly resembled Peter. No one was better suited to bait the hook.

“Calm down. We knew you’d clear the lobby.”

“Really? Like you knew the sick yellow chinny would catch on?”

Mercy Lee gripped her rifle with ire. The willowy young woman was a daughter of the clan’s last pure Asian family, though one could hardly tell from the excessive amount of mascara she wore.

“Stow it, penis. No one’s in the mood for your mouth dump.”

“I said enough.” Rebel rubbed his eyes, then checked his watch. “In eight minutes, this place’ll be crawling with Deps. We gotta work fast.” He pressed his earpiece. “That means you, Gemma.”

“I got it. I got it. Trillinger and Farisi went east. They’re hiding in the office cubes. Looks like one of them’s bleeding.”

“What about the others?”

“Dormer and Maranan are in the maintenance hall. Not sure which part but . . . God.”

“What?” Rebel asked. “Are they going to be a problem?”

“No. It’s the Givens you need to worry about. In ninety-one seconds, they’ll come back through the southern arch. They are . . . Jesus, you guys have to be careful. They’ve gotten stronger. A lot stronger.”

Rebel took an anxious breath. He’d learned to listen to Gemma Sunder’s warnings. The girl saw things no one else could.

“All right. Freddy, you go after the boy and the augur. Forget the rifle. Just do what you do.”

Freddy smiled. His fists encrusted with spiky tempis. “Now we’re talking.”

“I want the rest of you on the sisters. Take them out. Do it fast. Mercy . . .”

The young woman nodded nervously. She knew she was Rebel’s ace in the hole. “I’ll be ready for them.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes at Rebel. “Where are you going?”

No one else had to ask. The cartoonist who’d rotted Rebel’s hand was in this building right now, hiding in the office cubes.

“Just help the others,” he told Bruce. “You all know what’s at stake here. Go.”

They dispersed. As Rebel hurried to the eastern door, Ivy’s dulcet voice rang through his earpiece.

“You be careful, Richard. You hear me? You kill them all and come back alive.”

Rebel pulled out his new revolver and checked the chambers. He’d been woefully unprepared in Terra Vista. It cost him six people and a hand. He knew better now. He was ready.

—

The sisters stopped at the lobby entrance, their heartbeats pounding in synch. Amanda choked back a scream and squeezed her golden crucifix. Please, God. Please let Zack and Mia be all right.

Hannah watched her sister’s teary prayer and suddenly rued her own agnosticism. She always saw higher meaning as something outside her reach, like fractal math or long-term monogamy. As the gun dangled in her quivering hand, all the actress could conjure was Ioni’s bright assurance. The sunrise. The full moon. The rainbow after a storm. These are all things that can’t be stopped by mere mortals. You know what the augurs call them?

“Givens,” she muttered.

“What?”

Hannah looked at her sister through moist eyes. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember what they fought about this morning. She couldn’t fathom why they wasted any of their precious time on battles.

“I love you.”

Warm tears rolled down Amanda’s cheeks. “I love you too, Hannah. I love you more than anyone. As soon as you get in there, you go as fast as you can. You don’t slow down for a second.”