Chapter One

The explosive took Alec Laurence by surprise. The small projectile ripped through his threaded-metal body armor and pierced his skin with shrapnel. The impact sent him off his feet and he skidded across the concrete over ten yards’ distance.

His helmet constricted his pained temples. The earpiece for his right ear had fallen out and the microphone plate contoured around his throat dangled to one side.

Too goddamned close.

The aging mercenary had never been this careless on a job. Had he not been wearing the expensive protective suit, he would not have the luxury of cursing himself while he lay prone in the warehouse section of the factory.

The warmth of blood flowed down his undershirt. Each movement to sit upright caused the depressed portion of the chest armor to dig deeper into his ribs. He closed his eyes and fought off nausea.

So careless. Alec wondered how he could have left himself so exposed to the enemy overhead during his rush to catch up with his team. He inspected the damage to his chest armor with gloved fingers. The suit was beyond repair, the fibers that protected him frayed and shredded.

He was a few weeks shy of his forty-fifth birthday. Many in his profession never lived that long. For him, twenty years of operating these raids for corporate clients gave him the experience to plan and execute jobs with minimal losses to his team. Rarely had he been so close to death himself.

Alec poked at the hole left by the munition. His ribs and shoulder burned in complaint. With a groan, he slumped back on the ground. He wondered whether those forty-five years caused his missteps.

Alec’s breathing got shorter, almost choking. He ripped off his helmet and inhaled hard enough to pop his eardrum. Coppery wetness and sulfur residue filled his nostrils. He turned to his uninjured side before he vomited.

The pain in his chest as he moved revealed he had at least a couple cracked ribs. What more the projectile damaged in him, he would discover once he got to safety.

Alec saw a blurry, dark figure tug on his good arm. The contours of the armor and the sheen of the veil on the person’s helmet were familiar. The glint from the chain and charm that hung from the man’s trigger guard revealed his identity.

Jake Sutton, Alec’s partner in business for a decade, dragged him against a wall of stacked metal crates, out of the line of fire. Jake stood over Alec, wielding the XM8 pulse rifle while he faced toward the aisle leading to the firefight.

Alec fought the throbbing in his temples. He leaned his head back against the cold metal behind him. The weapons contained within those boxes were labeled for delivery to a company in the Republic of China. They were not his goal.

Jake lifted the veil of his helmet and pressed it high into the lightweight shell. Alec noticed his second-in-command’s lips moving, speaking into the thin microphone that looked more like a hair out of place that pointed toward that clean-shaven chin.

No words came from his mouth, just the hum that played in Alec’s left ear. The realization hit him hard.

The explosion made him deaf.

Alec tried to keep upright while the world spun. Jake turned to him and talked, animated with his left hand while his right gripped the assault rifle. Alec found that he could not read Jake’s lips at all. He pointed to his ear and shook his head.

Jake nodded, and relayed the corrected plan through simple hand gestures. He dropped his veil with an armored glove, then turned his attention away from Alec and toward the fray. He ran into the open, out of Alec’s vision.

A couple of soldiers trained on Jake from the catwalks above. Alec readied his weapon, though his left arm locked before he could aim high enough.

Motion caught Alec’s attention. He looked at the end of the protective wall, opposite the direction where Jake disappeared. One of the guards hired to protect this facility rushed forward into Alec’s view. He had his gun drawn but not aimed. When he spotted Alec, he saw a gun already trained on him.

Alec fired twice, perforating the guard’s neck. He collapsed, slain.

Slipping. He had never been this careless on a job.

Alec glanced around to ensure no other intruders roamed near his hide. Secured, he donned his helmet. His temples throbbed with pain and his left arm fought him when he lifted it above his shoulder.

Another explosion shuddered the metal cubes behind him, and some moved out of joint and threatened to fall. Alec stumbled forward from the impact. He collected himself, swallowed back the foul taste in his mouth, then cleared his thoughts.

The job still needed to be done.

Alec put his earpiece back in and shifted the microphone plate on his throat. He lowered his veil and watched the computer in his helmet come to life with an active user interface projected onto the reflective polymer. Faint outlines of his team appeared, five members still alive. The computer kept their positions active, with their names and distance from Alec above their heads. At the top right of his view were those who no longer had vital signs. Six in all.

A faint buzz tickled Alec’s ear. His team used their talk band, an encrypted radio frequency, to coordinate their attacks. He needed to hear how things were with his team.

He had trouble clearing his mind of how he could let himself be exposed to the blast that nearly ended his life. He would never tolerate it from any of the men who worked for him. The mistake now ate at him.

Alec thought about his retirement, something few mercenaries in Halcyon ever got to contemplate. Clients seldom allowed their hired guns to leave. Death or disappearance were common ends to long careers.

He shook his head of such thoughts.

Alec focused on the movements his helmet highlighted for him. Three soldiers repositioned themselves on the walkways above, taking aim at his team below. The brilliant red shapes high up tried to find a better angle through the maze of conveyors and equipment at the green outlines below.

Alec peered around the end of the crates. At the back wall of the warehouse, the soldier with the munition weapon that nearly ripped off Alec’s arm leaned over the railing of the catwalk. The guard took aim, an angle that would cause collateral damage to those below. Jake and Evan, one of the new guys they hired for this job, were hidden beneath one of the machines that would take the brunt of the next attack.

Alec fired a spray that missed his target. The enemy withdrew back from the railing long enough for Jake and Evan to take a better position. The other guards who spotted Alec scared him back behind the crates with their own fire.

His balance shifted as he struck the back of his helmet hard against the metal wall behind him. A vortex of noise built in his ears, a storm of building cacophony, until it crescendoed in a sudden pop of his drums. Muffled sounds filtered in from the earpiece, and he could make out the frantic demands of his second-in-command.

“I’m back,” Alec said. His team welcomed him to the fray.

The battle raged on the other side of Alec’s protective zone. He heard Jake command the remaining members of their team, while through his helmet the weapons continued their melody.

“Where’s that fucking miracle of yours?” Alec groaned at how disparaging Jake’s tone sounded. She would be there, she promised. As she sat in the planning of the assault, she, too, felt the siege would be simple, based on their intelligence. There would be no hurry for her to be there at the start.

Alec’s earpiece chirped, and one of the outlines on his screen disappeared. Evan’s name appeared on the list of, as the computer menu stated, “No Longer Broadcasting.” The programmer of the interface left descriptions cold.

“Evan just fell?” Alec knew the answer to his question, but he returned to his role as leader now that he regained all his senses.

“He took a spray from helmet to heart. We need to retreat if she’s not going to show.”

“She’ll be here. Hold off the target as long as possible.”

Jake growled as he peppered the walks above with another clip of ammunition. He did as Alec instructed, no longer trying to take out the guards but just keep them at bay.

Alec felt a familiar sensation, that someone was watching him from the dark. He looked up where the catwalks disappeared into shadowy recesses. The dark-clothed figure stepped forward, cautious, creeping forward.

Alec smirked.

The battle was now even.

The form stepped toward the guards, wrapped tightly in black cloth from head to toe. They failed to notice the prowler inching close. The din and firepower of the battle engaged their attention.

“Take cover,” Alec said, “she’s here.”

Jake fired off a burst and hid under the machinery he used to protect himself. He ordered the rest of the team to hold their fire and position. As trained soldiers, they did as they were told.

Alec watched the graceful figure pace toward its prey, a dance of predators that showed the horrors behind beauty in nature. She stepped into direct light and withdrew her shuriken blades from her thigh pouch. When one of the guards noticed her and turned to fire, her arms blurred firing the daggers.

“Move out,” Jake commanded through the talk band. The ninja above worked her way through the guards. With her two different-length swords, she cut limb and sliced skin where armor was weak or exposed. She avoided gunfire from those farther back, using her victims as shields. Alec’s men got out of their holds and took care of the guards who left themselves exposed to fire from below.

The guard with the munitions launcher took aim at the assassin in black, forgoing any want to protect his own men. He kneeled down and aimed the weapon. She turned toward him, having just sliced a guard’s throat with her short blade.

He fired, the sound giving Alec pause. The ninja fell to her knees and leaned back. Her shoulder blades touched the metal mesh of the walk. The munition flew over her and exploded a wall far behind her position.

As though wires guided her, the figure rose to her feet. The guard who just fired at her reloaded his weapon. She dropped her longer sword and brought the remaining blade over her head. She stepped and launched the sword end over end more than a hundred yards to its target.

The blade impaled the guard just below his neck. The hilt caught on his plated chest armor. His gun dropped to the floor below while he fell back on the railing, then collapsed on his side.

“So glad she’s on our side,” Jake said over the talk band.

“Let’s get what we came to grab,” Alec said.

They reached the secured door at the back of the warehouse. Jake spread the moldable explosive on the locking mechanism of the steel door and attached the remote trigger. The group got out of the blast radius and hid behind sturdy structures. The ninja above stacked two bodies to protect her from the coming explosion.

The blast left debris covering most of the equipment and inventory in the warehouse. Smoke filled the top third of the sixty-foot-tall facility, partially cloaking the catwalks. The ventilation system came to life and worked to clear the haze.

Alec’s group moved into the dark room they just opened. With their guns ready, they checked for any more guards that would cause them trouble.

The nausea in Alec’s stomach stirred, and the world around him spun. He faltered and pushed the veil of his helmet up, his breathing labored.

“We have to get you out of here.” Jerry, another of the new mercenaries Alec hired for this mission, grabbed Alec’s gun and pulled his functional arm around his shoulders. He assisted Alec out of the facility, where their getaway vehicle awaited them.

Before he left through the open portal destroyed when they broke into the warehouse, Alec looked back over his shoulder. The figure dressed in all black crouched over one of the guards she killed. She dug into his hand with her shorter blade, a scene Alec had witnessed many times before.

He smiled.

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