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Night Vision	By : ehiltebe Category: M through R > Pitch Black Views: 1117 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Pitch Black. All I can claim is Eileen, really; all else is borrowed, and profits me not at all!

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Chapter Seven
I can’t help but grin at Box-Boy’s discomfiture. Two of th’ new ‘neighbors’, accordin’ t’ my extra senses, are very welcome in my books. An’ my bugs inside let me hear every second of th’ merc’s reaction.
“Unidentified vessel, this is Clan Vagos out of Ursa Five. Be advised that we are on the ground now and have responded to an emergency signal.” My, how civil he sounds… but he ain’t gettin’ a response. “No distress found, no need to land. I repeat, there is no reason for you to land at this location at this time.”
Th’ ship swivels as it descends, an’ I glimpse a familiar face through its canopy. Of course they’d have Jack at th’ controls; they’d be idiots t’ do otherwise.
“What the fuck did I just say?” I can hear Box-Boy throw th’ comm mike before he stomps back outside.
My eyebrows rise as th’ new crew exits their ship. Th’ second figure is feminine under th’ bulky protective gear; second off is usually second-in-command, just as th’ first off is generally th’ leader. Not many women seconds under male firsts among th’ organized merc teams. Another two guys come behind her, with Jack bringin’ up th’ rear as a barely-seen figure eases out of a top hatch an’ heads away from th’ building.
“It was a long haul,” I hear th’ guy in front say before Santana can start. “We could take on some water. Wouldn’t mind a little true-gravity time, either.” Good excuses. Eileen—that has t’ be who was sneakin’ out—has managed t’ vanish into th’ landscape.
“Like I was saying, I’ve got this.” Th’ newcomer looks skeptical, even from here, especially as more of th’ first team come into view.
“You know who that was, right? On the emergency beacon?” Funny; new guy sounds vaguely familiar. At least he respects my rep.
“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” Now th’ guy’s gaze goes t’ Squeaker, an’ I can almost hear him decide th’ kid ain’t th’ right material t’ take me on.
“The concept of backup still has no appeal to you?” Smart man; th’ more he talks, th’ more I find myself respectin’ his guts an’ smarts.
“My besties here can ball with anyone.” I chuckle at th’ lie. “No disrespect for your crew, of course, who look strong, too, in those matchy-matchy outfits.” Bigger lie, even though some of th’ Vagos boys chuckle.
“Matchy-matchy because Boss wants t’ know his people have a sufficient baseline level of protection,” a voice whispers in my ear as hands slide up my arms. Dog looks over briefly, then relaxes; I don’t need t’ look t’ know who’s behind me. Even as I reach t’ put an arm around her, my mate shimmies up next t’ me.
“Smart man.” I nip her ear gently; still need t’ pay attention, see how this first encounter plays out. Th’ Vagos second mutters somethin’ an’ gets a laugh outta Box-Boy.
“Well, it’s not my intention to jump another man’s claim,” th’ new leader responds. “If you don’t mind, maybe we’ll just pull up a chair and spectate for a while.” He takes a couple steps an’ gets blocked.
“What if I do?”
“Well, this is a co-op station, pal. It’s open to all mercs.” I feel Eileen’s ribcage vibrate with a silent chuckle. “By the way, my name is—”
“Too Late,” Santana drawls. “That’s your name, ‘Too Late.’ And I don’t need you stepping all over my dick here, my friend.”
“Well, I’ll tell you what.” Th’ man’s still playin’ affable. “I won’t lift a finger to help until you come ask me for it. How’s that?” Without another word, he an’ his crew—includin’ Jack—head inside like nothing’s wrong.
“Somebody’s gonna die for killin’ th’ girl, I presume?” My woman’s already taken in that part of th’ scene, of course, as she shifts around t’ my front.
“Two more seconds an’ she’d be alive,” I murmur, though it comes out as a dark rumble. She runs her hands over my scalp as I pull her close; Eileen’s th’ only person who knows how t’ truly soothe th’ savage beast in me.
“Show me where you’ve laired, my love,” she whispers, an’ I’m only too happy t’ comply.
Can’t make myself put her down, let her walk there on her own two feet, though.
We’ve been apart far too long.
~*~
~Boss is gonna blow a gasket when he realizes Eileen’s gone and I have to tell him everything.~
Jack managed to resist the urge to chew on a fingernail, glanced at Dahl worriedly, then looked at the kid from Clan Vagos again. ~He’s too… nice to be running with these asshats.~
“I’ve got your back, kiddo,” the team second muttered as she walked by with her oversized rifle case. The brunette acknowledged the comment, but kept an eye on the young man.
~*~
“That’s weird.” Moss was frowning at Jack’s back.
“Leave her alone about her sister.” His startled look was easy to field with a raised eyebrow—Dahl’s long-established signal that all would be explained, eventually. The suddenly-absent sister wouldn’t be a problem, or mentioned again, but the blonde had no fucking clue about the young woman’s apparent fixation on one of the other mercs. Granted, the kid didn’t fit with the rest of Clan Vagos, but he was otherwise fairly unremarkable. Cute, maybe, but still…
Shaking her head, Dahl finished the light maintenance that her sniper rifle needed and glanced toward her oldest and closest friend. Seeing that Boss was getting out the holomap, she wandered over as he tapped the glitchy panel. Once the whole display was working, he moved the terrain to show a section further to the south, where more dramatic topography took over.
“I was scoping this out earlier.” A lacework of tunnels lit up in pink, even more of them coming into view as he rotated the image. “It’s a cave system, five klicks south. Might be worth a look.” She nodded.
“Hey, Too Late.” The Vagos leader strode in like he owned the station. “Need to pull a node from your ship and store it right here, next to mine. Okay?” He waved toward a large locker on the upper level of the main room.
“Really?” Boss fixed the greasy little man with a gimlet stare. “Why is that?”
“Riddick triggered the beacon to get off-world, right?” He patted a rectangular object already sitting on the shelf—it was about the right size for a node. “Basically, he was calling a taxi.”
“And?” Dahl knew that her friend was no idiot; he was deliberately drawing the other group’s plan out of its architect.
“And a ship would make a sweet trap, right? Confined space, metal walls, jail cell. Is cool, huh?”
“Is it true,” she asked, suppressing a grin, “half the people you meet are below average intelligence?” From the corner of her eye, she saw the other man deflate.
“Got to make sure the ships stay grounded when he comes for them, okay?” The Vagos leader—she hadn’t bothered to learn his name yet—clapped his hands. “Come on.”
Dahl turned a faintly pleading look on her business partner, but he sighed in resignation and nodded. It was a reasonable precaution, after all, given what was known about Riddick’s skills. Well, publicly known.
“Pull a node from the ship.”
Of course, once she returned with the power source, the vile little man refused to give her any space. He even tried to take over shelving the unit halfway through, forcing the blonde to slap his hand away from her arm. And it wasn’t a prissy little slap, either.
Without any warning at all, a slim but muscled arm came around the bastard’s neck from behind and tightened until his eyes began to bug out.
“Leave her th’ fuck alone, you misbegotten misogynist,” Jack snarled as he struggled against her hold. “An’ don’t think I didn’t see that poor girl you shot. Th’ way I see it?” The young woman’s hand opened and grabbed his shoulder; she used a very precise application of force to hurl him away from them both. “You—and prob’ly one or more of your boys—were usin’ her, maybe got tired of her. You let her think she was gonna get away, then shot her in th’ back as she ran.”
Interestingly, the Vagos leader’s puce color had gained an uneasy greenish tone as the brunette spoke, and when she glanced at the kid, he was blinking rapidly and swallowing hard.
~He witnessed part or all of what she’s describing,~ Dahl realized. ~And he looks like he needs to talk to someone about it, too, now that someone else has floated the theory and it’s not just his word against theirs.~
Way too nice a person to be associating with these assholes of his own free will.
“Stand down, Jack.” As soon as the younger woman shifted her focus to Boss, the greasy little man produced a yellow explosive lockbox, gave both females a somewhat wider berth than before, and set it against the hasps on the locker doors so he could key in a combination.
“Any time now, Riddick,” Dahl heard him mutter as he walked back outside.
~*~
An hour later, the blonde noticed her young friend at the table, hunched slightly over a scrap of very thin paper with a compact stylus. She was writing something in tiny letters, then tore that corner off the sheet and wadded it up into a little ball. Jack seemed to consider for a moment as she tucked the stylus into a tiny sleeve on her corselet, then hurled the small projectile at the Vagos kid—Luna, she’d heard one of the others call him—and swiftly turned so that, when he looked for who had pegged him, she appeared to have her attention on something else entirely.
~Shit, she’s crushing on the kid,~ Dahl thought to herself. ~This is going to be so fucking hilarious.~
Fortunately for him, Luna was bright enough to flatten the piece of paper before he discarded it. He stiffened, glanced at the brunette again with a faint air of suspicion, then shoved the scrap into a pocket. Jack continued to studiously ignore him.
“Warnin’ your boy t’ stay close tonight?” the blonde murmured to her, suppressing a smirk. Hazel eyes flashed at her, and a low growl came from the girl’s throat.
“You two.” Boss’ call kept her from trying to calm down her young friend, but Dahl nodded as he tilted his head toward a semi-private bunk area. Here came the questions she’d been both dreading and anticipating with unholy glee.
As Boss pulled the chain mesh curtain to block out the other ten people milling about inside and around the building, then peered out the windows into the slowly diminishing sunlight and closed the metal slats over them, Jack began to gnaw at her lower lip. The older blonde put a hand on her shoulder in reassurance.
“Where is she?” her friend asked, never having been one to beat around the bush.
“Thing is, Boss,” the brunette began, “if we’d thought you’d believe us, we’d have told you pretty early on.” She fidgeted. “But… well, we knew I was never on th’ manifest, an’ since Eileen was literally a last-minute passenger, she prob’ly wasn’t, either.” As Jack spoke, the former military man sank onto a bed, going pale under his tan.
“You gotta be shitting me,” he muttered. “All along, you’ve been hoping I’d lead you to him.” Then another fact appeared to unfold in his mind as his eyes widened further. “He’s Furyan?!”
“Only Prime Alpha pair in existence; from what we’ve learned, his father was th’ last Chief Alpha of th’ Packs. An’ Eileen’s dad was his right-hand man; their moms were best friends.”
“Fuck. No wonder he’s so hard to catch.” Boss rubbed a hand over his face. “But that means those two kids were someone else’s kills.” Because Furyans didn’t harm the young and innocent, they protected them ferociously.
“I’m sorry, Boss, but Billy’s th’ one who shot ‘em. Rick surrendered ‘cause he threatened th’ rest of th’ group.” And she did look like she regretted having to destroy his mental image of William as much as Dahl did.
“Seems he got mixed up with th’ wrong kinda mercs after he left th’ MPs,” the blonde added, hoping to stave off some of the guilt she could already see settling over him. “We never really talked to him ‘bout that side of th’ business.”
“Guess we should have,” he muttered. “I take it Bill survived the crash.” Jack nodded, then continued at his gesture.
“He let us all believe he was a cop, not just a merc, but Eileen wasn’t fooled. We were tryin’ t’ get more power cells so th’ emergency skiff we found would work, but only got partway back before th’ eclipse hit.” The brunette had begun to tremble slightly. “We were able t’ keep movin’ ‘cause Rick an’ Eileen can see in th’ dark. Had t’ go through a canyon on th’ way, an’ th’ predators—we called ‘em grues—had lined up on th’ walls, were smellin’ th’ pilot bleedin’. Billy got frustrated with pullin’ th’ sled, went up t’ talk t’ Rick without knowin’ Eileen could still hear him. He suggested hackin’ someone up an’ draggin’ ‘em behind t’ keep th’ grues busy so everyone else’d get through.” Jack looked up, tears in her eyes even as they blazed. “He wanted Rick t’ do th’ dirty work, an’ he wanted th’ bait t’ be me. Rick wouldn’t do it. He an’ Eileen drew Billy away from th’ group, an’ there was a fight. They didn’t kill Billy, though, his own idiocy did. Half his shells were actually hidin’ his twice-daily dose of Lady M.”
“Ah, God. My boy’s been gone a lot longer than ten years.” Boss had covered his face as the brunette spoke, probably to hide how much he was hurting. Then a thought struck Dahl.
“We’ll have t’ pretend we don’t know Eileen, don’t know any of this, until Santana an’ most of his crew are dealt with, especially that big one.” The former soldier looked up, new lines of sorrow already etching themselves on his face as he visibly stepped away from his emotions. She knew that, once the current situation had been resolved, he would seek privacy, and only then let it all out.
“Diaz,” her old friend supplied, his voice thicker than usual. “Their tech guy’s Rubio, the kid’s Luna, and the other three are Falco, Nunez, and Vargas.” Jack’s eyes widened slightly.
“Pretty sure Luna’s no danger, but th’ rest… wouldn’t trust ‘em with so much as a pea.” The blonde frowned as she made the assessment.
“We might get a bit of activity when full dark hits,” the younger woman offered. “Rick prob’ly either found or made some kinda traps he could set up, but any direct attack will come early; they won’t wanna come up for air, so t’ speak. So it’ll be over quick, an’ then they’ll be caught up in each other for hours.” Then she grimaced. “An’ that’s all I’m gonna say about that.” Brunette eyebrows waggled as Jack held up a small electronic device, obviously made somewhere other than a factory or professional shop. “Didja know that remote mikes an’ receivers can be made from th’ junk left around these places? I’ll give ya three guesses who made this, an’ th’ first two don’t count.”
“A whole system?” The blonde whistled under her breath when she got a nod. “Damn. He’s had entirely too much time on his hands.”
“An’ not enough credit for havin’ a workin’ brain.” Jack snorted. “That’s th’ most aggravatin’ part, havin’ people think you’re an idiot when they don’t know shit about you…” Satisfied that her young friend was returning to a relatively even keel, Dahl steered her back out toward where Moss and Lockspur were getting out their dominoes. And since she’d brought it up, she might as well dig up a station inventory to see exactly what was missing.
~*~
“Rick.” He hummed in response as I brushed at the dust we’d gotten on my gear during the quickie. “I’m thinkin’ we leave th’ kid in one piece.”
“Who, Squeaker?” I raised an eyebrow; my mate came up with damned funny nicknames for some people. “I can do that; he’s th’ only one on that team who’s worth it.”
With a wince, I realized how my request might have sounded and reached out to take his hand in apology. My lover squeezed back, one corner of his mouth quirking up in understanding.
“This ‘Boss’ of yours is pretty hot on gettin’ me, then?”
“Well, he is lookin’ for answers he hasn’t gotten from anyone else… though Jack’s probably told him what happened on T2 by now, since the jig is up.”
“Big Daddy Johns?” Both of Rick’s eyebrows rose. “Is he like Billy?”
“Fuck, no. Totally different; th’ man’s got civilized standards. Refreshing, even. Bought us a couple of Hogs of our very own recently.” At that, my mate grinned wickedly. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, we’ll go ridin’ sometime soon.”
“Think our girl can get him t’ play dumb while we weed out th’ Vagos bunch?”
“Guaranteed. He made this face when they hailed us—disgusted look, like he’s run across ‘em before. With th’ girl added in…”
“Let’s go play for a little bit, then.” I followed Rick through the broken terrain, his ‘Dog’ on my heels, until we reached an outcrop just within our extreme hearing range of the station. The sun was setting now, a moon wreathed in volcanic activity rising above the opposite horizon. As we settled in, the brindled canid prowled further along the ridge and disappeared.
“I’m telling you, this is total overkill,” I heard one of the members of Clan Vagos grouse to his friends as they stood watch. “What, twelve of us out here now? Shoulda been a four-man op, tops.”
“You are jinxin’ our janx, man,” his comrade retorted. “An’ that ain’t cool.”
“Hey, I don’t give a shit what they say. He’s one guy.” I sniggered.
“Whatever you say, man.”
“He’s one guy,” the first merc repeated to himself.
Then Boss wandered out of the building, a cup in hand and Dahl a few steps behind. The Vagos leader—Rick’s ‘Box-Boy’—was fiddling with his Cyclops unit.
“So I guess that’s what passes for a fucking moon on this planet.” After taking a sip of his drink, Boss continued. “It’s gonna be a dark night. Advantage, him. Maybe he’s gonna wear you down first. Force you to go without sleep.”
“Can’t you see I’m busy?” the other man snarled.
“Just sharing my thoughts.”
“Well, now that you have, can I politely invite you to step off my fucking porch?!” Box-Boy waved one arm in a mock-polite gesture. Boss smirked, looking pleased that he’d been successful in needling the man.
“I’ll start rotating down. You let me know, huh?”
Next to me, my mate chuckled, just as amused with the byplay as I was.
“As soon as I have his head in a box, I will let you know.”
A few minutes later, the security system fixed on something off in the direction Dog had gone. The throbbing twang of the alarm brought everyone who was visible to a high alert.
“Grid 29D,” the Vagos leader relayed as he worked the Cyclops’ controls. “Stand by, stand by.”
“Whatcha got, cuz?” his second asked, audible through Rick’s radio tap.
“Ah, some dingo-dongo thing.” Box-Boy turned the sound off, and his men relaxed.
“Yeah, I see it now,” the big grunt replied. “Want me t’ pop it?”
“Knock it down. One shot, suppressed.” As the big idiot aimed, I could see that his assault rifle only had iron sights, no scope. Was he that sure of himself?
The firearm discharged with a crack, but there was no answering pained yelp.
“Nice work, Diaz,” Box-Boy drawled sarcastically. “Encouraging.”
“Had somethin’ in my eye.” I stifled a snort at the extremely flimsy excuse.
“It’s called a scope,” came the retort. “Try it next time.”
“You got this, right?” The greasy bastard whipped around to see Boss watching through a window.
“Will you get off my fucking frequency!” Someone—probably Boss himself—rotated the slats closed.
“Any second now.” Rick glanced along the path the canid had taken as he muttered. The Cyclops went off again just moments before the brindled creature reappeared, the handle of a remote sensor between his jaws. The machine was so confused by its moving relay that it swiveled one way and paused, then turned to face another area. Accepting the device from Dog, my lover proceeded to smash it against the stone, making the central unit behave even more erratically. The Vagos leader scrambled, finally yanking the power supply cable.
“Thank fucking God!” one of his men shouted as soon as the noise died—loud enough that the radios were unnecessary.
“Fuck off!” Box-Boy called back before adjusting his earpiece. Then he reached into a case. “Rubio, coming your way now. Gotta swap out a bad sensor.”
Naturally, that was when one of the inside microphones began to pick up a conversation. I shifted my attention.
“What was supposed t’ be here versus what we’ve found,” Dahl stated.
“How’s it square?” Boss asked, though he was probably already scanning the report.
“Pretty good. I mean, th’ morphine’s gone, but that’s always th’ first thing t’ go.” The blonde paused. “That was a bit weird, though.”
“‘Predator restraint with one hundred and seven centimeter offset jaws.’” He sounded mystified by the description.
“Six listed, zero found.” I blinked, astonished. Those were fucking man-traps, and would be truly lethal. Rick chuckled evilly, and I glanced around to check on the boy’s position; he was behind a teammate, thankfully.
“That is an odd thing to go for a walk,” Boss murmured.
“Yeah, but you know how shit goes missin’ from these stations. One bad year, an’ guys are rippin’ stuff off for salvage.” That seemed to end the little conference.
“Hey, Santana?” the older man asked via the radio a minute or so later. “You did sweep the area before I got here, right?”
“Sweep for what?” The filthy merc slowed down.
“I just want to make sure no one has set any traps for us.” Given his tone of voice, I suspected that Boss was smirking.
“Traps? What kind of traps?”
“The kind with jaws.”
Santana stopped completely, allowing his tech to get several steps ahead. The subordinate kicked something that made a loud, metallic noise. His employer froze as he reached down.
“Don’t touch that fucking thing!” he whisper-yelled. The tech—Rubio, I presumed—glanced back at him, but pulled the object out of the gravel anyway.
“What?” He brandished the battered metal plate he’d found; Santana sagged noticeably as the item got tucked beneath Rubio’s shirt. “Up-armor.” He patted his chest, then continued on his way. Moments later, his blood-curdling screams rent the air.
The transmissions from Rick’s microphones inside and the radios outside turned into bedlam. I heard Moss and Lockspur’s voices beneath Box-Boy’s frantic instruction for his man to stay put, and the questions from the rest of Clan Vagos.
Then, with an audible, metallic thump, Rubio’s screams ended forever.
“Who the hell was that screaming and why?” one of Santana’s men demanded. Dog darted away from us, vanishing into the gloom.
“Nunez,” the leader began, his voice tremulous. “Break out the sweep gear. And figure out how many of these big-ass traps we got out here, okay?” Finally the man was starting to respect my mate’s capabilities. “I’m thinking maybe the whole upper-left quad is some kind of fucking mine field.” I could see Santana slowly moving back the way he’d come, gingerly feeling around before shifting his weight to the next foot. “You got to do that now, okay, Nunez?” Near-silence answered him. “Copy that, Nunez?” No response. “Nunez?”
“This is bad.” That sounded like the kid, and I could just see him moving in short, rapid advances. “This is very bad.”
“Nunez!” One of the other men shouted the name at the top of his lungs. “Nunez!”
“Shut the fuck up, puto!” Box-Boy snapped harshly. “His radio just crapped out. Someone get eyes on him.” Now all four men split up to search. “Make sure he’s right where he’s supposed to be—13H. Go, go, go!”
As the station’s exterior buzzed with activity, an odd sort of cat-like chirp sounded from the pocket where I’d stashed the earpiece Boss had provided me for jobs. Part of my earlier preparations had been to turn off all but its most secure channel. Rick heard it, too, drawing his attention away from the chaos below as I dug the equipment out of its hiding place.
“Spine-cat calls?” he asked, and I nodded. Neither Boss nor Dahl had been able to identify the animals Jack and I had mimicked when we came up with our series of basic codes, but they had diligently become ‘fluent’ in the sequences we’d worked out.
“Jack,” I murmured in explanation, just loud enough for him to hear as I hooked the device over my ear. A few small sounds emerged from my throat, shortly answered by additional noises in a different pattern. “Vagos hasn’t tapped th’ team’s private channel, an’ Dahl’s strugglin’ not t’ laugh at ‘em.” My lover grinned at the information, then pointed back toward the station.
“Time t’ really fuck with their heads: make one almost disappear, but give ‘em a glimpse of me draggin’ him away.” As though cued, Dog showed up again, the side of his muzzle gleaming darkly as my mate grunted at him and melted into the red-tinged gloom.
“Been makin’ him communicate, huh?” A scratch under the canid’s chin turned into a vigorous rub behind his odd-shaped, erect ears. “I’m glad he’s had you for company.” With a satisfied noise, he laid down beside me and rolled so I could get at his belly if I chose to, trusting me wholly.
~Such lovely lines, th’ way he’s been put together. Hyena-like down th’ top of th’ neck an’ shoulders, with a greyhound chest an’ back end. Coat’s a bit dark for this area, maybe from another part of the planet? That would explain why I haven’t seen any others like him.~ Part of me knew that I was trying to distract myself while Rick put himself in harm’s way.
“Right here,” one of Santana’s men growled harshly. “13H. He’s supposed to be right fucking…” He trailed off, and Dog licked his chops.
~Kill site number two.~
“So this was overkill, huh?” Ah, so the bickering pair were the ones who found Nunez. “Twelve of us, too many. Yeah. You know all about Riddick, right?” The more cautious man was snarling; they had turned to guard each other’s six, staying in motion to keep from developing any blind spots. “Well, maybe you need to take that shit back! Take the jinx off our janx. You understand me? That’s what you need to do, Falco. You need to unjinxelate our fucking janx!” Only then did he seem to realize that his friend hadn’t responded to his tirade. “Don’t mess with me now,” he warned futilely. The merc screwed up his courage and whirled, only to see a broad back and clean-shaven head preceding his comrade’s limp body as both figures disappeared into the darkness.
Then the kid all but ran over the shell-shocked merc, who jumped sky-high.
“Hey, hey, what is it?” ‘Squeaker’ blurted. “What is it?”
“Get back!” He suddenly had a gun in his face and backpedaled.
“It’s me, it’s me!”
“He’s got Falco!” the older man yelled before he turned and fired wildly in the general direction of his last sighting of Rick. He was off the mark, of course; good tactics meant that my mate had changed direction around one of the large boulders littering the landscape. The kid added to the useless barrage with an incoherent shout.
“Jock up, but you’re staying here,” I heard Boss order via my earpiece. “No one’s going out there until I say so.”
Clan Vagos continued to panic.
“Man down,” repeated the merc who’d been there. “He’s got Falco.”
“How the fuck did he do that?” My team leader sounded genuinely surprised—yet another example of how thoroughly Rick’s past had been scrubbed, obscuring his military and Special Ops training, the way he’d been groomed for very black work.
“Never even saw him, man.” Falco’s friend was now babbling. “He was right here and I never…”
“What about the ship?” Boss asked insistently. “Is he on one?”
“He’s not coming for the ships, he’s coming for us!” Tense calm reigned inside the building, and chaos outside. “Just fucking shoot! Shoot!” The jumpy mercs opened up again; Dog got to his feet, chuffed at me, and headed away from the station. I followed.
Tonight’s demonstration was over.
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Night Vision