Page 39 of Act of Command

“Sounds good!” yelled Boomer as he ran off, looking far too excited to get to level the place.

Malik headed in the other direction, grinning, enjoying himself far too much. Striker moved through the halls, killing any guard who tried to stand between him and his objective—his captain.

He inhaled, catching the scent of something that burned his nose and throat. He heard it then, the sound of a really pissed-off lion roaring. Wasting no time, Striker ran in the direction of the sounds, already knowing who the lion was.

Corbin.

And he sounded fucking livid.

Striker made it to a set of doors that were pried open. Greenish smoke filtered out of the room and he coughed. He didn’t exactly want to enter the room with whatever it was in the air, but he knew without a doubt his friend was in there and needed help.

Malik came around the corner from the other end of the hall, his weapon out, his gaze locking on Striker. “I couldn’t find any signs of prisoners in that direction. Did I hear the captain’s roar?”

“Aye,” said Striker with a nod. He tipped his head towards the pried open door. Smoke continued to come out of it. “He’s in there. Whatever that is in there, it burns to breathe in.”

“Captain is still alive so it won’t kill us,” added Malik, though his expression said he wasn’t so sure. “You want to take the lead?”

“Thanks,” said Striker dryly, taking point. He moved in, crouching down, his eyes burning as he did. He spent a fair amount of time around Mercy in the labs back at headquarters and had accidently started a number of lab incidents, so he was familiar with safety protocols. Twisting, he put his hand out, feeling around the wall for anything that was like the lab at headquarters. When he found a series of buttons, hit them all. One would probably work. He hoped.

In an instant the room was bathed in some liquid that didn’t smell like water as it poured down from a sprinkler system. Exhaust fans kicked on and the fumes dissipated slowly, revealing Corbin there in the center of the huge room, partially shifted, his hands and face bloodied.

Malik came up short behind Striker. “Dear Gods.”

They’d seen Corbin do partial shifts before. They weren’t caught off guard by that. It was the pure red in his eyes. The raw, feral look on his face. He was in the throes of bloodlust, and that was bad.

Very bad.

There were guards all over in the room. Most of them were dead. The ones left standing looked scared shitless of what they were witnessing.

Malik lifted his weapon and aimed at a guard. Striker glanced to the side of the room, past a mound of broken glass and spotted a crumpled pile on the floor. It took him a minute to realize the pile was a woman. Not just any woman. The one from the pictures he’d seen in the dorm room.

Mae.

He pushed on the end of Malik’s weapon, forcing him to lower it. “No. Look. ‘Tis his woman there. Do nae take his kills. This is his right.”

Malik looked in the direction Striker was pointing and gasped. “We’re not going to be able to pull him back from this.”

“Shut up and do nae draw his attention to us just yet.”

“Did you find him?” yelled Boomer, entering from behind, pulling Corbin’s gaze to them. There was no recognition in their captain’s red eyes. He saw everything around him as a threat and he’d kill everyone if given the chance.

Boomer drew to a fast stop. “Sweet fucking hell. He did all this?”

Malik motioned to the woman on the floor. “Look.”

Boomer stiffened and then tipped his head. “Listen. Do you hear it?”

Corbin went at a guard near him, slicing the man’s throat.

Striker glanced at Boomer. “Hear what?”

“A heartbeat.” Boomer pointed to the woman.

Malik gasped. “He’s right. The woman lives.”

“I do nae think he knows as much,” said Striker, his gaze on Corbin. “Anyone want to tell him?”

Boomer bit his inner cheek. “Rock, scissors, paper?”

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