It’s getting near the finish and things are about to get crazy! Can Fiddlestix protect her friends or is it all going to explode in her face?
“What kind of hardware do they have over there, Buzzard?” Fiddlestix went into command mode immediately.
Buzzard did a scan of the compound, whistling low and long. He pointed to a line of heavy artillery that lined the roof.
“Gear up,” Fiddlestix prepared to storm the compound. She donned a bullet proof vest as Scarlet entered the cabin.
“What are you planning?” It wasn’t so much a question as a
demand to know.
“Deacon’s safety is my responsibility.”
“If you go running in there with guns blazing, you’ll blow the whole deal.”
Fiddlestix checked her weapon and chambered a round. “I’m willing to risk it to keep Deacon safe.”
She and the others gathered around the monitor. It was a quiet standoff that could go down hard any second.
“Don, I’m sensing something’s changed around here. Mind filling me in?”
“Changed? Not at all.”
“Shall we get going? I’m anxious to see the property so we can get the ball rolling.”
Deacon started to rise, but the nearest bodyguard clamped a hand down on his shoulder, pushing him gently but firmly back into the chair.
“Not until you tell me what you really want, General Scott.”
Deacon frowned. “I beg your pardon? Did you call me Scott? Don, what the hell goes on?”
“Enough pretense! You’re not Preston Keith! Your name is Deacon Scott and you’re no more a business man than I am a hired gun.”
Loki tried to fire, only to find his cyber ware didn’t work. There must be a cyber-damper in effect. The bodyguard nearest Tully drew and fired at him before the skinny man had a chance to react. Tully fell, clutching his chest.
“NO!” Fiddlestix screamed as all hell broke loose. “We’re going in! Take out that damper!”
Buzzard and Blacksmith flanked her with Deacon’s men directly behind them. Scarlet brought up the rear, gun ready.
Heedless of resistance, Fiddlestix ran recklessly to the backdoor of Varin’s house. It was open, saving her the trouble of breaking it. Holding up her fist, she made the men halt outside. No one was in the room except Tully’s limp form.
“Where did they go?”
“To the garage,” someone told her from the boat. “Be careful. It could be a trap.”
“Ya think?” She wished she could talk to Deacon and the others.
“Get Tully out of here,” Fiddlestix told the medic.
“I don’t think so,” Scarlet said, her gun leveled at the young corpsman as he rose with Tully on his shoulders.
The kid froze, eyes riveted on her weapon that was leveled at his forehead. He set Tully down slowly, raising his hands.