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

Cortez had still torn it apart, sweeping the room for bugs, slits in the wall, anything that could be used to watch or listen to them. They’d found nothing. And so, they sat in what remained of their lavish room, trying to think.

“We don’t actually need guns.” Nowak held his eyes closed. “With the money we have, we could just hire out guards. As long as we don’t wander anywhere dangerous, we’d be fine.”

“Bullshit.” Cortez looked pissed. “If it’s anything like what we’ve seen, we’d be dead in a week. And then there’s Asle.”

“I know . . . can we get by without her?” Nowak looked to Summers. He held a hand up to Cortez before she could say anything. “I’m just trying to weigh our options here. Do you think you could translate for us, at least long enough for us to get to Nevada?”

Summers thought for a long moment.

“Maybe. But for the record, I’m with Cortez. We can’t leave her behind.”

Nowak dropped his head to his hands.

“All right, so can we trust him? Or do you think Rhodes is going to stab us in the back as soon as he doesn’t need us anymore?”

“No, I know his type,” Logan ventured. “If he thinks he can control us, he’ll keep us around. So long as we’re useful, anyway.”

“I don’t trust a word out of his mouth.” Cortez sat back in her chair.

“What about what he was saying earlier? He knows something. More importantly, something’s going on back at base, and we’re in the dark.” Summers realized Rhodes could have been lying, but something about the tone in the man’s voice had told him otherwise. “Did the general’s phone mention anything like that?”

“No. And that’s another point for taking his deal.” Nowak stood, stretching. “If he’s keeping secrets, chances are he’s not going to tell us what’s going on until he’s done with us. And I don’t have to tell you how running blind’s gone for us so far.”

The group sat in relative silence.

Summers looked down at the table in front of him, deep in thought. Food had been laid out for them: baked goods and all manner of sugar-laced desserts. He was fairly sure they weren’t poisoned, but none of them had touched a thing.

He reached down to a blunt, silver knife, inspecting it. Ever since the incident at the bar, he’d considered what they’d done. Since the fog, he’d never really fought anything—at least, not with his hands. Most of what he’d done had involved running, shooting, and hoping to God that that was enough.

He took the knife in both hands and bent it in half.

It took almost no effort.

“Huh.”

Chapter 23: Training

By the time morning rolled around, they’d made the most obvious decision they could have: they’d taken Rhodes up on his offer.

Which had led to their current predicament.

“Fuck’s sake . . .” Summers muttered under his breath. He watched, barely suppressing his annoyance as a group of children ran past.

Nisha had led them through the city to familiarize them with its defenses, which was how they’d found themselves beside a busy market street. That in itself wasn’t what was bothering Summers, however. It was the purpose of the large building they’d been brought to. Inside, elves stacked large barrels of black powder on top of each other. Actual black powder. Somehow, Rhodes had created a workable replacement for gunpowder during his short time in the elven city.

The fact that they were storing it less than a stone’s throw from civilians, though, pissed Summers off to no end.

“The market empties at nightfall.” Nisha glanced to Summers, sensing his mood. “And during the siege, I can assure you that it will be empty. It’s quite literally the safest place we could find.”

“Yeah . . .” Cortez watched as one barrel was rolled into the large pit the elves had dug beneath the guard station that housed the powder. “Gunpowder and kids, that’s what I think of when I hear the word safe.”

“The market gives us the best route to resupply our walls, and it’s outside a siege engine’s range.” Nisha’s words had a monotone, almost rehearsed quality to them.

A group of elves packed fired brass, no doubt salvaged from the same place Rhodes had found his guns, up to the wall beside the barrels. He could see the beginnings of a reload station’s press being installed in the building beside it. It was almost impressive in a way; from what Summers could glean, Rhodes had been here for a little less than a year, and they’d already come this far.

Nisha moved toward the kids, saying something, and after a moment, the two started off down the street. Summers could barely make out the words “not safe.”

Logan studied the woman. “So, potential casualties are worth the risk? Just like the refugees you have outside?”

He sounded skeptical.

Nisha just watched as the kids ran off into the distance. “Yes.”

“See, I don’t think you believe that.”

“No, I don’t. But that’s not important.” Nisha met Logan’s eyes.

“What is, then? I can read people pretty well, and I don’t think you’re comfortable with”—Logan gestured around them—“all this. You’re not stupid, and Rhodes depends on you. Why don’t you speak up?”

“You have some concept of honor where you’re from, correct?”

“What does honor have to do with it?”

“To the others, it is about survival—for their city, for their families. As for me, if you have a debt, you repay that debt,” Nisha replied, turning back to the group. “Now, about your assignments . . .”

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Summers had been assigned training duty, along with Nowak and Cortez, while Logan had been given the job of recruiting, along with Nisha. That had come as a surprise to Summers, as he figured they’d need as many instructors as possible.