The Gadget: The Rondon Chronicles Book One by V. Timlin (speed reading book .TXT) 📕

“For diversion, just in case. Arnar’s house will be watched and Rose’s house is next door,” Nat said, with a lowered voice.

“Great, you have a plan B figured out already.”

“Always.” Nat winked.

“Nat, why can’t we call the enforcers? Does Amanda have a phone?” Anouk tried to keep pleading out of her tone.

“Why?”

“Those guys are dangerous and it’s dark. Trying to deal with them without extra help, to me, sounds like a suicide mission.”

Nat patted her shoulder. “Enforcers won’t set foot in The Pits when it’s dark. And if they did, there would be a blood bath.”

Anouk’s shoulders slumped. “Wonderful. Could you ask Amanda if she has any coffins or body bags?”

Chapter 17

Anouk glanced up. No moon or stars. Columns of smoke from countless chimneys in The Pits appeared in different shades of green through the night goggles she wore. The sky could have been cloudless, dotted with bright stars and the moon could be full, but the smoke hovered over the roofs like a stage curtain, blocking any glimmer of light.

She sighed and resumed observing Rose’s home street. Only she, Nat and a few others dared to defy the darkness. An eerie quiet lay over everything. Anouk shuddered. She wouldn’t be there either were it not for their investigations. Although the darkness hid them, it also hid the villains. Nat had assured her that the regular thugs of The Pits couldn’t afford night goggles. However, they weren’t her major concern. The brutes on Stalo’s payroll were. He might have supplied his men with similar glasses, at least those most loyal to him like that bastard Biddulph. She shuddered again. Stalo and Biddulph, his right-hand man… She wouldn’t be sorry if their dead bodies were found one morning in the same way Rekka and those two other bounty hunters had been found.

They advanced in silence towards Rose’s home. The occasional rat or cat ran across the street or rustled in the heaps of rubbish piled against the walls. Their eyes gleamed like gems among the greenish landscape. A loud crash came from within a house they were passing. Anouk jumped at the noise. A cry of outrage followed the clatter.

A woman screamed, “Do you know how much that cost, you fucking pisshead?”

“Fuck off, you old bitch,” the drunk yelled, his words slurred. “Unless you want to feel the leather of me belt.”

Anouk never heard the woman’s response; they had moved out of earshot. Lovely neighbourhood…

Nat whispered, “We are close now. Put your mask on.”

“Saw something suspicious?”

“No. Let’s be careful, though. I’ll warn you if I see anything and if we need to use those bombs.” Nat cocked his head towards the bag on Anouk’s shoulder before putting on his mask.

She lifted hers over her mouth and tightened the straps. With a nod, she signalled to Nat she was ready. He looked creepy with the round goggles and half mask, like a character from a low budget horror movie Owen once made her watch. The movie had been nothing but blood splatter and screaming. Now, though, the blood spatters were real, not just special effects.

They walked at a slow pace, scanning the surroundings. Anouk strained her ears to detect any anomaly in the soundscape. Her heart beat so fast she was sure Nat would turn around to hush her. Breathing through the mask was laborious, and she made a conscious effort to keep it steady and calm. Hyperventilating would mean a quick passing out—a disaster she wanted to avoid while carrying bombs.

She touched the two round bulges in her tote bag with shaking clammy hands. She had been horrified when she first saw the bombs—the glass orbs, the size of her palm. The smoke bombs were translucent, but the knockout gases were greenish.

Nat and Amanda had both assured her they wouldn’t break easily, but Anouk wasn’t convinced as they looked so fragile. Amanda even demonstrated their durability by dropping one on her wooden floor. Anouk had been ready to dart out, but the orb failed to break. That had been against wood, though, cobblestone might be another matter. She wouldn’t want to fall on her bag and test that hypothesis.

Nat stopped and waved Anouk next to him. Rose’s house loomed, light pouring out from her window. Nat had sent Rose a message a couple of hours earlier so she must have received it and was waiting for them. Nat pointed towards the stairs across the street from Rose’s house and lifted his mask. “There,” he whispered.

Anouk strained her eyes, but no movement caught her vision. She loosened the straps of her mask and was about to ask Nat what she was supposed to see when she spotted faint clouds rising behind the stairs—someone was smoking. Her stomach sank to her boots. Brilliant. How would they get to Rose without raising any suspicion?

“Yes, I see it now,” she whispered. “You were right. Arnar’s clinic is being watched.”

“Aye.”

“Should we abort the mission and ask Rose to meet us somewhere else? I mean, us going in now and coming out a few minutes later might draw unwanted attention to her.” Anouk nudged her thumb towards the rising smoke.

“No, we meet Rose as planned. I’ll throw knockout gas. When they come around, their suspicions will be directed to Arnar’s place, not Rose’s.”

“I suppose that makes sense. Do you think there are more of them?”

“Possibly. Put your mask back on. It’s time to relieve the watcher from his duties.” As Nat fixed his back, Anouk did the same. Nat’s hand dove into the large pocket of his trench coat and he fished out a ball. He hurled it behind the stairs. A sharp crash of glass echoed between the buildings.

“Watch out!” a man cried and jumped into view. He took another step before collapsing on the cobblestones. Another meaty thud came from the hiding place.

Anouk nudged forward, but Nat took her by the elbow. “Wait.”

She froze on the spot and listened, her heart hammering. After a few eerily