Fireteam Delta by J. Halpin (ebook reader that looks like a book txt) 📕

orange bird things. Cortez, you want night shift or day?”

“I’ll take night. Nothing fun happens in the morning, anyway.” Cortez started to get up.

“See you two in the morning.” Nowak waved as he and Asle headed upstairs.

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Summers stood in the small barn they’d rented, along with Cortez. It was quiet here, and the fresh air let him relax ever so slightly.

The wagon was sitting in one of the many storage warehouses that lined the walls of the city. He assumed the guard station beside them was supposed to make the area look secure; however, none of them fully trusted a city they knew nothing about.

Summers turned at a kissy noise from beside him. Cortez was trying to elicit some kind of response from the cow. It wasn’t working.

“I kind of like its attitude. He doesn’t give a shit about nothing. It’s cute.”

“Your definition of cute is disturbing.” Summers watched as Cortez scratched the cow behind its ear. It made no reaction, but didn’t try to pull away, either.

“I’m calling him Tank.”

“You can all him what you want, but from what we’ve seen, I think Lunch is more appropriate.”

“I think Tank’s a she, actually.” Cortez ducked under the cow, verifying that, yes, there wasn’t anything there.

Summers sighed, stretching to try to loosen his stiff muscles. Maybe taking what was essentially a double shift wasn’t such a great idea. “How much longer you think we have?”

Cortez stepped outside and looked at the sky. “Another six hours, at least.”

He settled in against the near wall. It was going to be a long night.

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By the end of their shift, the two were tired, bored, and more than a little annoyed by the entire concept of guard duty. The guards on the wall above had only stared down at them impassively as they passed. He could swear they were giving him dirty looks, only without any expression whatsoever.

Then a noise from outside put him back on alert. Their little storage space was at the far end of the street, so no one would have any reason to get close if they weren’t coming to them specifically. Cortez saw him react and readied her own weapon.

“If that’s one of you, say something before I blow your head off,” Summers called out.

“Try me, asshole.” It was Nowak’s voice that called back. “We gotta set up a challenge phrase.”

Cortez walked to the door. “Why? We’re the only ones who speak English around here.”

The barn creaked open as Nowak stepped in with Asle. An older elf woman followed in after them—the same silver-haired trader Summers had seen at the head of the caravan when they arrived.

Nowak gestured to him. “Guys, do me a favor and bring that worm thing’s head over.”

“Any particular reason why?” Cortez grunted with effort as she climbed into the wagon, straddling the body of the creature.

“Ms. Synel”—Nowak started with emphasis on the woman’s name—“is a buyer. I don’t know how she found us, but Asle says she’s real hot shit, so play nice.”

Summers hauled the easily 200-pound head out of the back of the wagon and, with some help from Cortez, dropped it on the front seat.

Nowak led the woman forward. She was clearly tense, as if she expected the monster to come back to life at any moment. Actually, for all they knew, that probably wasn’t outside the realm of possibilities.

Summers moved to Nowak’s side as the woman inspected the beast. “The fuck does she want with a head?”

“She wants the whole thing. Said it’s some kind of charm. The smell of the big ones keeps little monsters away.”

“That . . . sort of makes sense. We didn’t have to deal with much after we took this thing down.”

She turned to Asle and said something.

“She wants to know if there have been any offers on the . . . trophy?”

“No—” Nowak started to reply, but Summers put up a hand.

“Sarge, you’ve never done any negotiations before, have you?” Summers turned to Asle. “Tell her we had a standing bounty in the next city. If she asks what it was, tell her you can’t discuss the details, but they were very, very generous.”

Asle nodded and spoke again to the woman.

Summers caught a flash of tension in the woman as Asle spoke. It was a little odd; maybe elves weren’t as used to hiding their involuntary reactions as humans were. Or, more likely, their culture just didn’t encourage them to read one another. She lowered her head in thought, then raised five fingers while muttering something to Asle. Summers took that as her naming a price.

“She’s offering five stones—”

Summers cut her off. “Tell her thank you, but no thank you.”

“Summers, what the hell are you doing?” Nowak looked like he was debating whether he should jump in.

“Trust me. She’s been eyeing this thing since we got into the city. She’s not leaving without it. Watch, while we’re talking, she’ll make another offer.”

“Seven,” Asle called over.

Summers pretended to consider that for a moment. “We’d be willing to go as low as eight. And only because we value her safety and future business.” Summers looked at the wagon. “In fact, explain to her that we plan to be on the road again soon, and we’ll buy one stone’s worth of food and supplies as part of the deal. You got that?”

Asle tilted her head in confusion, but relayed the message anyway.

After a long second, Summers heard the woman speak again.

“Ms. Synel agreed.”

“Summers, we have no idea what a goddamn stone is,” Nowak whispered. He was looking at him like he was crazy.

“I know we just got seven of them. And I really don’t want to haul this thing around much further, do you?” He gestured to the monster.

Nowak shook