A Nature of Conflict (The Redemption Saga Book 3), page 25
Elijah sketched, looking lonely. Quinn was preoccupied with one of his nightly patrols, and the wolves were off with him. Sawyer was sitting next to Vincent. Elijah was alone. Vincent felt sorry for his normally happy friend for a moment. He was half in love with Sawyer and she was completely blind to it.
He finally turned and eyed her. Sawyer Cambrie Matthews. He loved her name, even though he found it a little odd. It suited her in its weirdness.
He trusted Quinn with all their lives.
And he knew better than to think Quinn would actually be able to save them all. He wondered which of them he was going to lose on this mission, if it wasn’t him. He hoped he would go down before any of them.
“Stop arguing,” Vincent snapped at the fools with the prosthetic. “Deal with it in the morning if you can’t stop getting hot-headed over it tonight.”
“But-” Jasper began, but Vincent wasn’t having it. He was seconds away from hunting down Colonel Fischer to give over the names of anyone with the powers to mess with Jasper. He was fucking tired of the bickering. It was too hot, too wet, and the days were too long to listen to this when they were supposed to be getting a moment of respite.
“Shut. Up.” Vincent stood up and looked down at Sawyer. “Take Jasper out and roam around near camp. Maybe it’ll cool his temper.”
“And Zander?” she asked.
He scoffed, rolling his eyes up. “His temper never cools, you know that.”
“I was just making sure you did,” she teased, and he knew she was trying her hardest to lighten the situation. She stood up next to him and for a moment, he thought she was going to kiss him. Then she didn’t. He knew why: the mission and the soldiers. He’d talked to the guys, all of them, privately before they left the house for the mission. He knew she’d be on her guard around all the strangers with the politics going on in New York. He wanted to make sure the guys understood as well. None of them had argued, so they all let her keep her physical distance from them.
He agreed with her, but he still was sorry for not getting that kiss.
“Be safe. Check in with Quinn,” he ordered her quietly. He didn’t like when any of them were out of his line of sight. Not here. He didn’t know what could happen or when. It was why he’d convinced her to stay last night in his tent.
She nodded and held out a hand to pull Jasper up. “Come on, my friend. Let’s do a walk while the temperature cools off.”
“Cools off? Maybe like five degrees,” Jasper muttered, annoyed.
Vincent sighed and shook his head, watching them walk away. “Tell him out there what you think is going on. I’m going to annoy Colonel Fischer about who it could be. I’ll try not to let it become a scene.”
A wave back from her told him she heard and understood. Good.
He left Elijah and Zander, both lost in their own thoughts. Elijah, who watched Sawyer walk away with a look of longing that he probably didn’t realize he had, and Zander, who was definitely staring at her ass.
They were all fools for her. Vincent was too.
They needed the vacation.
They needed to survive this.
He wasn’t arrogant enough to think they all would.
“Colonel,” Vincent called out as he neared the IMAS main tent, a huge structure they propped up every night to talk about their plans. He hated going to it. Colonel Fischer knew who he was. Knew he was the son of a criminal family. Knew he was the brother of a criminal mastermind.
Vincent stopped walking and thought about that for a minute.
He couldn’t really call Axel a criminal mastermind anymore. His own madness and obsession for perfection had led him to obsess over Sawyer and her ability to just stay alive when he wanted her dead. It had been his downfall.
The rainforest was making Vincent thoughtful. The long hours in the heat sapped his energy to hold conversation.
“I need to get out of my head,” he muttered to himself. “Or I’ll end up like him.” He pushed into the tent and waved the colonel down. “Colonel Fischer, I wanted to speak to you about something.”
“Shoot, kid,” the colonel answered.
Vincent lost his impassive expression and glared at the older man. Fischer was professional to a point in front of his troops, but he was rude to Vincent in private. He was getting annoyed with it. They were practically of equal rank.
“I have a suspicion that one of my team is getting hazed by one or more of your soldiers,” Vincent explained, closing the flap of the tent behind him to keep the conversation as private as possible. “I would like to discover who it is. If you don’t want me to know who it may be, then you need to make it stop.”
“Sergeant Petrov brought this to me. Said Shadow threatened one of my healers,” Fischer responded, sitting down. “Petrov also talked to the most likely candidate for the teasing.”
Vincent hoped Petrov and the IMAS healer got the message across to the idiot who was ‘having a bit of fun.’ He knew Sawyer was possessive as hell over them and messing with Jasper, who had lost that leg in the fight to save her, was a recipe for someone not making it home. She would slide a dagger between the soldier’s ribs.
“Sawyer,” Vincent corrected after a moment. “Sawyer wouldn’t threaten a healer, by the way. She will, however, hurt the person who is jerking around Jasper’s leg while we’re moving. I’ll even let her, since it undermines the trust and security he needs with the prosthetic to perform at his peak.”
“Look at you,” Fischer said, chuckling. “Don’t like a few soldiers just trying to have a good time?”
“Not at the expense and safety of my team.” Vincent took another one of the seats in the tent and leaned back. “Between Quinn and Sawyer alone, my team beats your soldiers, let’s be honest. Do you really want to see them both lose their temper by fucking with someone they consider theirs? Sawyer is the only person on the team besides me that has this suspicion, though I’m having her tell Jasper himself right now. If Quinn finds out, he’ll be distracted from helping us find this Druid and focused on punishing the fool who is messing with one of his ‘pack.’ None of us can stop Quinn when he’s angry. I would say Sawyer and I have the best chance, but it’s not certain, and she would be on his side.”
“Are you saying that if my soldiers continue to have some fun, people will get hurt? And you won’t stop them or even be able to?”
“Yes.” Vincent didn’t even feel bad for it. He refused to feel bad for his strongest team members defending the others. Sawyer with her cold ruthlessness and quick temper. Quinn with his sheer power and loyalty. “Now, I don’t want you to make a scene over this, because I don’t want retaliation from your soldiers because I’ve gotten them in trouble. You need to handle this quietly and quickly. I’m out of patience in this fucking rainforest, Colonel. We have bigger fucking problems than this, and your soldiers need to realize how dangerous this is and cut the shit.”
They stared each other down for a long time. Colonel Fischer stood up and poured himself a drink, handing one to Vincent as well. He didn’t drink any of the whiskey, but he took it, knowing it was a peace offering.
“I had only wanted your one agent because of the strength and knowledge he has. I didn’t expect to get all of you,” Colonel Fischer informed him. Vincent gave the older man a small smile. “I wasn’t prepared to make sure I had soldiers that would be the most professional. I just brought my best.”
“People continue to learn that blackmailing my team is ineffective. Let’s not lie to ourselves or each other. You, your General, and Councilwoman D’Angelo blackmailed Quinn into coming on this mission by threatening Sawyer’s safety and security. D’Angelo had hoped she would screw Sawyer in the process. Politics. We weren’t going to let him come down here and die for you on his own. Which means you got more than you asked for. I’m not going to feel sorry for it.” Vincent rotated his wrist slowly, watching the whiskey swirl in the glass. Colonel Fischer was in here drinking whiskey, and everyone else in camp ate MREs and were running low on clean water. Sawyer was out of granola bars.
But this motherfucker had whiskey.
“I’ll talk to the war dogs,” Fischer finally told him. “You’re right that we need to make this work. If he were still in IMAS, he would have been discharged for losing a leg, but you’re an IMPO team, a well-known one at that, and I need to make do with that.”
“You do,” Vincent whispered.
“Fight!” a male voice screamed across the camp.
“You might be too late.” Vincent slowly got out of his seat, placing the whiskey on the room’s center table.
“God damn it,” Colonel Fischer growled. “Who do you think it is?”
Vincent had his suspicions. He walked out of the tent quickly, his anxiety climbing back up. If the fight had already started, then there was nothing he could do to stop it. He had hoped he would get the evening to handle this.
A group of soldiers were beginning to congregate. He pushed through, Fischer following him. They ran into a shield around Sawyer and a handful of soldiers. He saw her first, black hair flying free from her standard, curly ponytail as she deflected an amateur punch and hit the soldier in the gut.
“You think you’re fucking funny?” Sawyer snapped out the question, violence saturating the words, and Vincent could only see rage in her eyes. Even under the weight of the Druid’s magic in the area, he could feel a creeping cold radiating out from her. It was buried, muted, but it was there.
“Fuck, bitch. We were just having some fun, and you had to get all pissy about it with our sergeant.” The soldier coughed when he was done, holding his gut. Vincent’s eyebrows shot up as he saw another soldier try to jump Sawyer, who sublimated out of his way and reformed to grab him. Vincent watched her deliver a swift knee to the young man’s balls and toss him to the ground.
“Sawyer!” he roared, hoping to snap her out of the anger.
She ignored him, getting back to the fist fight with the offender that she started with. When he went down, Sawyer pulled a dagger, but the shield covered the entire fighting area. Vincent couldn’t get in. He knew whose magic it was.
“The asshole deserves it,” Zander’s voice cut in. He was beside Vincent now.
He turned and glared at the red-headed healer. Their damn healer was going to let Sawyer kill a guy. “What happened?” Vincent demanded.
“That shit got in trouble and sent Jasper down hard for it. Jasper almost broke his wrist in the fall. The little fuck gave himself away by taunting Sawyer. She’s fucking furious. Jasper is fine, by the way. I healed him up, no problem.”
“Drop the shield,” Vincent ordered.
“No. Fucker deserves it.”
“Sawyer doesn’t,” Vincent snapped, grabbing Zander’s shirt. The hothead didn’t get it. “I get that you two want to fight the fucking world, but this is murder. She’ll fucking carry this for the rest of her life. Drop the fucking shield.” He wasn’t going to let her carry around another death on her soul. Not another one.
It was too late for that.
The shield shattered as a bear slammed into it.
Vincent and Zander were both blown back by the magic that was released from the hit. When Vincent was able to get up, he saw everyone was dazed at the hit. The bear roared, and Vincent saw Petrov blink into Sawyer’s face and land a hit directly on his assassin’s chin. It sent Sawyer back a few feet, looking dazed. When she realized what had happened, she dove for Petrov, sublimating and flying around behind her for a better angle.
The fight was on.
“Do you have anyone else who can blink?” Vincent asked the colonel, watching Sawyer and Petrov, trying to find the best option to break the fight up.
“No. She’s Spec Ops quality. She’s the best soldier here, but don’t tell the General that. I’m going to have to reprimand her for this.” Fischer rubbed his face. “Do we just let them fight it out?”
Vincent just watched for a moment longer. He saw Sawyer’s face clearer once and saw blood pouring from her nose. Sergeant Petrov had an eye that was going to turn black. He winced as Sawyer took another hit before blinking off, Petrov’s arm wrapped around her neck. He winced again as Sawyer slammed back into a tree, Petrov hitting it hard enough to release her.
There was absolutely nothing anyone in the camp could do to stop the blinking battle. Both of the woman were obviously experts in their abilities, turning a simple brawl in a duel across the camp as they teleported around, trying to get grabs and keep them.
Everyone just watched in a moment of dazed silence. The two best fighters in the camp were women who didn’t play games or toy around. They were going for blood.
“No,” Vincent sighed. He knew who to get. “Quinn. Camp. We have a fight that needs breaking up.”
He felt the earth shake. Then, the moment Sawyer and Petrov were stopped for a second to throw punches, he watched the ground open up underneath them and pull them down by their ankles. And close up. The land smoothed as if they had never been there.
“Are they dead?” Fischer sounded horrified.
“No,” Quinn answered, walking into camp. “They can continue their fight down there or stop. I’ll let them up when they are done.”
“Do they have air?” Vincent asked cautiously. He’d never seen Quinn do something like that.
“Yes.” He didn’t look angry, just annoyed. “Why was there a fight?”
“I’ll explain by our tents,” Vincent told him quickly. He didn’t need Quinn losing his temper at that moment. Not in front of the tense soldiers.
“Everyone, get back to work,” Fischer roared, causing soldiers to jump to action and move away. “Except you three.” He pointed to the few young men that had tried to fight Sawyer, one of whom had been the one messing with Jasper. “You’ll report to my tent immediately. Move it.”
Vincent watched the crowd disperse and walked with Quinn and Zander to their area. Jasper was rubbing his wrist, his leg off so Elijah could look it over.
“Any damage?” Vincent asked immediately.
“No. Thank God.” Elijah was short with him, and Vincent knew the entire team was riding short tempers.
“What do I not know?” Quinn asked, sitting down next to the cowboy.
“One of the soldiers was yanking around on Jasper’s prosthetic, causing him to stumble and then fall.” Vincent sighed heavily and looked back to the spot where Petrov and Sawyer were buried beneath the earth.
“They are fine. They stopped fighting. Was she one of them?” Quinn’s question was innocently asked. Vincent knew it wasn’t an innocent question. He was asking if he needed to kill the woman underneath with Sawyer.
“No. She had reprimanded the soldier already for it,” Vincent explained. “Let them out soon.”
“Well, he was pretty pissed for getting in trouble, because he yanked me down fucking hard and I landed bad. Zander had to heal my wrist.”
The earth rumbled. Vincent took a deep, shaky breath. He’d known Quinn would be pissed off.
He didn’t have the energy for this.
“He’s still alive?”
“Yes, Quinn, the guy who did this is still alive. We can’t have Sawyer killing people. She would hate herself for it, and the WMC would take her from us no matter what.” Vincent rubbed his temples and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. He lit one and took a long inhale. “I’m assuming Petrov jumped in since Sawyer pulled the dagger.” He pointed at Zander. “Next time I give an order, I don’t fucking care what you think, you follow it. Do you understand me? I’m not the leader of this team without a reason. I actually think about how our actions will impact our jobs and Sawyer’s future. Don’t disobey me again.”
“Fine,” Zander growled, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair.
Vincent shook his head slowly. He started to walk away from the team, needing a moment to be alone and breath. This was a disaster of a mission.
He made it thirty feet from camp before Kaar landed on him. “Hey, Kaar,” he whispered to his raven. He felt a wave of concern and love from the raven and chuckled. “Thanks. We’ll make it out of this and go home soon.”
The raven ruffled, shaking a couple of loose feathers out, and snapped at his hair. Vincent waved a hand, trying to get Kaar to stop. The humor coming off the bird as he messed around made him chuckle more.
“Stop that, you shit,” he ordered. Kaar hopped and made him sway to the side. “You’re getting fat out here. How does that happen? You’re flying around all day and you’re still getting fat.”
Indignant anger coursed through him and Kaar cawed loudly in his ear.
“Asshole,” he mumbled. “I’m just saying, lay off the snacks. What have you been doing? You are supposed to be keeping an eye out for us and staying out of trouble. Are you eating all the time?”
Kaar sent an image to Vincent that made him frown. He’d followed Shade and Scout somewhere during the day. They had been following a trail far from the group, searching the rainforest for something.
They had found it.
Vincent couldn’t identify the object, but Shade and Scout hadn’t been aggressive towards it, and Kaar seemed happy about the find but didn’t offer more information. He didn’t understand the undercurrents of emotion from the raven.
He took a drag on his cigarette.
What was Quinn having his wolves do? He understood the messages he got from them better than Vincent and Kaar. Vincent had a typical relationship with his animal bond. They were partners, but Vincent didn’t speak bird, just like Sawyer probably couldn’t understand the nuances she must have gotten from Midnight.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He groaned at the question and looked back at Quinn. “Because I trust you with our lives, but I need you focused on the important stuff, not the petty drama between our team and the soldiers.”
“Okay.”
“That’s it? You won’t get mad at me?” He took another drag on his cigarette.
