Chapter 30 #2
The captives react to the explosion with fear. Some try to stop, panic setting in.
“Keep moving,” I order. “That’s our exit. Move.”
I get the group to the ground floor. There’s a service exit near the east side. Less defended than the main entrance.
“That way,” I point. “Service door. Get outside and run west. Someone will meet you.”
Nadia. She’ll find them. Get them to safety.
I set down the two I’m carrying. Make sure the mobile prisoners can help them.
“Go!” I order.
They move. Slow but moving. Heading for the exit.
I turn back toward the stairs. Back toward the cells. Back toward wherever they’re holding Kaylin.
The bond pulses. Nadia knows I’m going deeper. I feel her concern through the connection. Her fear. But also her trust. She’ll handle the extraction. I’ll find the girl.
Alarms are deafening now. Emergency lights strobing. Somewhere above, guards are searching the building.
I take the stairs up fast. Past level two. There must be another level. More cells.
Level three. The door is reinforced. Biometric lock and keypad. I tear through it with dragon claws. Metal shredding.
Inside: isolation cells. Smaller. More secure. For the worst cases or the most valuable subjects.
Three cells. Two empty. One occupied.
The third cell holds a young woman. Wolf hybrid. Early twenties. Barely recognizable as human.
Kaylin.
She’s worse than the files indicated. Much worse. Surgical scars cover most of her body, IV lines and monitoring equipment attached everywhere. Her breathing is so shallow, it’s almost imperceptible. Eyes closed. Barely alive.
I break the glass. Disconnect the medical equipment carefully. Lift her with infinite gentleness.
She’s light. Too light. Dying.
I carry her toward the stairs, moving fast. Above, I hear automatic weapons fire in response to the explosion. Nadia’s diversion escalating. I feel her—alive, fighting, holding their attention.
I descend the stairs, reach the ground floor, and head for the service exit.
Too late. The hall ahead fills with Syndicate operatives. Seven of them in full combat gear. Weapons raised.
“Commander Allon,” the lead operative says. “Stand down. You’re under arrest for treason.”
I assess quickly. Seven armed operatives. Me carrying a dying girl. Nowhere to dodge. No cover.
“Stand down,” the operative repeats. “Last warning.”
I shift. Dragon rising fast. My body expanding, wings bursting from my back. Scales form across every surface. Kaylin is safe against my chest as I complete the transformation.
Fire erupts from my jaws. Superheated flame that fills the hall. Walls shatter around us, masonry flying like shrapnel. The operatives scatter. Some too slow, their screams cut short.
I launch forward, using my bulk to smash through their line, claws rending armor and flesh. Tail striking. Wings buffeting anyone close.
One operative gets behind me and empties his magazine into my back. The bullets penetrate scales. Pain. Blood. But not enough to stop me.
I swing my tail and connect with his torso. He flies into the wall. Doesn’t get up.
Two more operatives ahead. Blocking the exit. I charge, shielding Kaylin. They fire. I feel impacts, but my scales deflect most of the rounds.
I hit them like a battering ram. They go down. I’m through.
The service door is ahead. I smash through it, metal and wood disintegrating. Outside, I’m met with early evening air. Freedom is so close. But more guards are converging. Ten. Fifteen. Coming from all directions. And two of them shift.
Dragons. One copper-scaled. One black. Both smaller than me but trained and coordinated.
I set Kaylin down carefully behind cover. She needs protection. I need freedom to fight.
The copper dragon attacks first, breathing flames. I dodge. Return fire. Our flames collide mid-air in a superheated explosion. The black dragon comes from my left, talons extended. I meet him with my own. We grapple, claw against claw, scales scraping, both drawing blood.
The human operatives are spreading out, using the dragon fight as cover. Flanking. Surrounding.
I break from the black dragon, breathing fire in a wide arc. They scatter, but they’re using cover. Professional defensive approach.
The copper dragon dives from above, raking across my back. Deep cuts. Pain. More blood. I spin, catching his wing with my tail. He spirals. Crashes. Doesn’t stay down long.
Through the bond, I feel Nadia. She’s fighting too. Drawing more guards away. Giving me this opening. Fear pulses through the connection—not for herself. For me.
Can’t let her down.
More Syndicate guards arrive. Twenty. Twenty-five. A mix of human operatives and two more dragons shifting.
Four dragons now. Plus armed humans. Too many even for me.
The black dragon hits me from behind, tearing into me. I roar. Twist. Throw him off. But he’s ripped scales. Blood is flowing.
A rocket-propelled grenade streaks past my head. Too close. The explosion rocks me. I land hard, using talons and tail and fire. Physical combat mixed with flame. Rending armor. Breaking bones. Burning flesh.
But there are too many. They’re not trying to kill me. They’re trying to capture. Subdue. Heavy nets deploying, electrical discharge weapons crackling.
I’m taking damage. Blood flows from dozens of wounds. Wings torn. Scales cracked.
Dragon claws cut deeper than bullets.
The copper dragon pins my right wing. The black dragon goes for my throat. I’m going to fail. Then I hear them. Howls. Multiple. Coordinated. Pack song.
Wolves explode from the tree line. Large. Fast. Moving as one.
The lead wolf is massive. Silver-gray coat. Alpha energy radiating. He hits the nearest operative with enough force to break the man’s spine.
Nadia’s alpha. Her pack. They came.
Thank fuck!
The pack spreads out, each wolf targeting specific threats. Moving with a coordination that speaks of years of training together.
The silver wolf positions itself beside me. We face the remaining operatives together.
Her alpha. Fighting beside me. For her. Because she asked.
The recognition settles something in my chest. This is her family. Risking their lives because they trust her judgment. Because she called and they answered.
An operative aims at the huge male’s exposed flank. I breathe fire. The man goes down screaming.
The wolf lunges at a dragon coming at me from behind. Jaws close on dragon throat. They tumble in a tangle of scales and fur.
We move in sync. Dragonfire and wolf speed. I clear threats from his left. He guards my right. When I’m forced to ground by concentrated fire, he draws attention away. When he’s pinned by three operatives, my talons scatter them.
The other wolves are equally devastating. They work as a unit. Cover each other. Exploit openings. Seasoned fighters who’ve trained together for years.
One wolf—a female with a dark coat—takes out the black dragon with speed I can barely comprehend. Another—a stocky male—coordinates with the alpha to corner armed operatives.
This is pack tactics. Synchronized. Efficient. Beautiful.
Through the bond, I feel Nadia yet again. She’s closer now. Fighting her way toward us, still safe. Relief floods through me.
More Syndicate operatives arrive. More dragons shift. The balance shifts again. Twenty more. Too many, even with the wolves’ support.
One operative keys his radio. I hear him clearly. “Requesting immediate support. Heavy casualties. Need aerial reinforcement. ETA?”
Static. Then: “Five minutes. Gunship inbound. Hold position.”
Five minutes until a heavily armed helicopter arrives. With the firepower to kill all of us.
We need to evacuate. Now.
But we’re still surrounded. Still fighting. The rescued prisoners are somewhere behind us. Kaylin needs immediate medical attention. Nadia is fighting toward our position through enemy forces.
The alpha shifts partially. Human face with wolf features. “We need to go!”
“Captives,” I call back, my voice dragon-rough. “Behind the building. And my—” I stop. Can’t say mate. “Nadia’s still getting them out.”
“She has help,” he growls, then shifts full wolf again, howling orders to his pack.
They disengage, making a coordinated retreat. Each wolf covering others. Moving toward where the rescued captives should be.
I follow. Still in dragon form. Still fighting off operatives who pursue. Looking for Nadia through the chaos.
Then the world explodes.
The blast comes from the main building. Massive. The structure erupts outward in fire and debris. The shockwave hits, and I’m thrown. Wings torn further. Slammed into the ground. Pain sears white-hot through my entire body.
Through the bond: fear. Not from me. From her.
Nadia.
I try to stand. Can’t. My right wing is destroyed. Ribs broken. Blood everywhere.
Ringing in my ears. Dust and smoke. Can’t see. Can’t breathe.
Somewhere close, the alpha is down. Other wolves scattered. Syndicate operatives shouting.
The building is collapsing. Fire everywhere. Secondary explosions as something inside detonates.
Through the bond, I search desperately.
Where is she? Need to find her. Need to know she’s—
There. Faint but present. Alive. Blessedly alive.
Relief crashes through me so intense that it’s almost painful.
I push myself to my feet. Shift back to human form. Easier to move.
Through the haze, I see figures approaching. Multiple. Moving fast through the chaos.
Syndicate reinforcements? The helicopter arrived early?
If that’s the case, we’re done.