Corvo Hawke's legs felt like they were on fire as they pumped beneath him. Behind, the chatter of gunfire sounded, bright popping noises followed by the pangs of bullets against the metal walls of the warehouses around them. Snarls of wolves and booming roars of dragons carried through the air.
The mission wasn't supposed to go like this. Not at all. The second-in-command for the Silver Talons Dragons Mercenaries and the leader of the op, Corvo was certain that this guard duty mission was going to go as smooth as half-melted butter. But he couldn't have been more wrong.
"Corvo!" came the voice of Mick O'Leary, the team's heavy assault expert. "Where the fuck are you?"
Corvo took cover behind a tall stack of dark blue shipping containers as he reached for his walkie.
"I'm taking cover in warehouse A," he said, checking the ammo in his pistol as he debated whether or not to just shift into his dragon form and run into the fray. "Where you guys at? What's the status?"
"FUBAR, man," said Hoxson, the demo man on the squad. "Fuckin' wolves came out of nowhere. Got us three-to-one."
Not good, thought Corvo. Not good at all.
Corvo tried to figure out how a mission to supervise some supply shipment at a near-abandoned dock in Red Hook had managed to go so sideways. Sure, he knew that renegade wolf groups had been on the prowl in the recent months –hence why shifter groups all over New York City had been paying a premium for guard services from merc groups like his- but he thought they'd had the site locked down. Nothing in or out that they hadn't accounted for. And the bears they were guarding had assured them they'd done their homework as well.
He shook his head as he heard another burst of gunfire from across the docks.
Shows me for getting cocky, he thought.
"I need a status from all of you right now, dammit!" shouted Corvo into his comms.
"I'm pinned down in warehouse B," said Mick. "But holding strong for now."
"In my nest, taking potshots where I can," said Jace, the team's sniper. "But these assholes are well-trained – know all about how to take cover to avoid sniper fire."
Corvo didn't like the sound of that one bit. He'd assumed that the wolf groups responsible for wreaking havoc across the city were scattered groups of thugs – more of a gang than a criminal enterprise. But seeing them in action tonight was changing his mind, and fast.
Em, where the hell are you? he thought, his stomach tensing with anxiety. Come on, come on…
"So far, so good," said Emily, the crew's recon specialist and Corvo's lover of nearly a year. "Staying on the fringes and watching this all play out."
Relief washed over Corvo in a cool wave. Everyone had checked in, but he knew that they were far from being out of the fray. The mission was fucked, and he realized the best they could do was evac as many of the bears as they could before the wolves overran them. He'd already written off the shipments as a lost cause – getting out with their lives was the best they could hope for.
"What do you see?" asked Corvo.
"It's a mess," said Emily, the crack of gunfire sounding over her comms. "Easily over a dozen wolves. They're securing the perimeter and moving in toward where the clients are hiding. Warehouse…C."
"Got it," said Corvo. "Mick and Jace, I want you to move into warehouse A, Em and Hoxson in B. Secure the areas and wait for my call. Be ready to bug out on my command."
"Wait, boss" said Hoxson. "That mean you're goin' into C? That scene's about to get really hot, really fast."
"Don't do it," said Mick. "The clients want to go down with their merch, you just go ahead and let them. We gotta get out while we still have a chance."
"I'm with them, Corvo," said Jace. "We evac now, we can make it before any more wolves show up. If they've got another squad poised to move in…"
Corvo didn't want to hear it.
"No way," said Corvo. "This mission might be fucked, but not a chance I'm gonna let anyone die on my watch. Arms dealers or no. Patch in when you're in position."
"Corv-"
He flipped off his comms, cutting off Emily's voice. Corvo loved the girl more than life itself, and it made her antsy about him taking any chances. He wasn't going to risk letting her talk him into cutting and running so soon.
Taking his pistol into his hands, Corvo brought in a deep breath as he stood up and prepared to leave the safety of the warehouse.
Now or never, he thought.
With that, he burst out of his cover and rushed toward the door leading to the docks. The sounds of gunfire and roars assaulted him as soon as he stepped out into the cool night air, the moon full and bright overhead. Corvo spotted wolves darting here and there, rushing from shadow to shadow. Unshifted mercs opened fire with heavy weapons, taking out the personal guard of the bear arms merchants who stood guard at warehouse C. A few of them had shifted into their black bear forms and were in the midst of fierce combat with the wolves. Corpses were strewn here and there, and it was no small relief to Corvo that none of them were of his crew.
Moving from cover to cover, Corvo hurried toward the warehouse. Just as he approached one of the side doors, however, a wolf merc –a sleek-looking man clad all in black combat gear- emerged from around the corner of the warehouse. But Corvo was too fast for him; a couple of pistol rounds right to the face brought him down before he could even think about raising his rifle.
Corvo placed his hand on the latch for the door and pulled it open. The scene inside was chaotic. Three men in expensive, well-tailored suits paced nervously back and forth in front of the dozen shipping containers that held the arms that they'd purchased. The men looked to be in the middle of an argument.
"How the hell did this happen?" said one of them. "This was supposed to be a goddamn cakewalk!"
"Maybe we should ask him," said another, looking up at Corvo as he approached.
Lionel Allegheny, the client who was overseeing the shipment, looked up at Corvo with fierce blue eyes, his slim face framed by long, dark hair.
"Bryce," he said. "You want to explain why my private guard is being taken out one-by-one on my own damned dock?"
"No time for talk," said Corvo, looking the men over and confirming they weren't hurt. "We gotta get the hell out of here before more of them show up."
But before he could say another word, he glanced at the shipping containers, noting that they'd been crisscrossed with colorful wires.
"Wait a minute," he said. "Is that what I think it is?"
"Explosives," said Lionel. "Enough to wipe clean this warehouse and the other two in the area."
"You're gonna blast this place to pieces?" asked Corvo, his tone one of surprise.
"Not a chance I'm going to let these pricks get a hold of my merchandise," said Lionel. "And this place is insured – no skin off my snout."
"This," said Corvo, pointing at the containers, "is the exact kind of shit that I need to know about in advance. You can't surprise me with info like this."
"Well, now you know," said Lionel. "And now you also know that they're set to blow in ten minutes."
"Ten mi-!"
Corvo waved his hand through the air.
"Doesn't matter, we gotta go now."
"Boss," said Mick through the comms. "We got more company, and they're making a beeline right to your location."
"Shit," hissed Corvo. "Time to move it."
Lionel and the others nodded, and Corvo gestured toward the back entrance.
"Ten of them," said Hoxson. "All converging on the warehouse. Boss, you're about trapped unless you can get out of there now."
"Don't worry about me," said Corvo. "This place is set to blow; get to cover now."
"Blow?" asked Jace.
"You heard me," said Corvo. "Get as far away as you can."
"No way," said Emily. "Not gonna let you die in there."
"Emily, that's a goddamn order," said Corvo. "Get to cover; I'll be fine. Go. Now!"
"Fat fucking chance. See you in a minute, babe."
Then her comms went dead.
"Shit!" shouted Corvo.
The three dragons turned to him expectantly.
"It's looking grim," he said, "but we can make it if we go now."
Once at the back entrance, he opened the door a crack. Just as he did, panging of gunfire against the warehouse wall only a few inches from his face sounded. He caught a quick glimpse of the approaching wolf squad, their figures like shrouded ghosts moving through the dark of night.
Shit, he thought, realizing that this exit was a no-go.
"You've got a plan, mercenary?" asked Lionel. "Because, if you don't, then we're about to be turned into a smoking crater."
Corvo rushed to the other side of the warehouse and pulled the door open a crack. More gunfire – same story.
Horror took hold of him as he realized that it was too late – he was already surrounded.
"We're out of the warehouse district," said Hoxson through comms.
"All of us but Em, that is," said Jace.
Before Corvo could bark into his comms a demand for Emily to report, she beat him to the punch.
"I'm here, baby," she said, the gunfire loud on her end. "Cutting an escape for you around the back. Hurry and meet me there."
"Em, get the hell out of here, now!" Corvo shouted.
But the line had gone dead once again.
Clenching his fist in frustration, he rushed toward the back entrance and pulled the door open just as the wolves broke in through the front, guns blazing. Sure enough, the bright yellow flash of rifle-fire cut through the black. Wolves dropped left and right, and the slender figure of Emily emerged from the darkness, her straw-colored hair bouncing around her shoulders as she ran toward Corvo. For a moment, Corvo couldn't help but be struck by her beauty.
"Long time no see, baby,” said Emily before giving Corvo a kiss on the cheek.
"You shouldn't have done this," said Corvo.
"No way I'm gonna leave you here to die," she said.
Before either of them could say another word, the wolves broke through the front entrance, some shifted, some not. Over Emily's shoulder, Corvo watched as they took aim at the group and opened fire.
"Now let's get the fu-"
She stopped in mid-sentence, her blue eyes wide as saucers.
Corvo knew right away that something was wrong. He grabbed onto her hips, the feeling of something warm and wet immediately noticeable.
Oh God, he thought.
Emily looked down, and so did Corvo. Sure enough, a round had hit home, punching right through the lower-left of her stomach. Blood poured from the wound, and Corvo didn't need a medic to know that this was bad, very bad.
More gunfire sounded as the wolves poured into the warehouse, and Corvo knew they were done for if they didn't get out of there right then and there.
Then, a look of almost blissful contentment crossed over Emily's features. She opened her mouth to speak.
"At least one of us is gonna make it home."
Corvo knew right away what she meant.
"No-no-no-n-" he said.
"Love you, babe," said Emily. "Always have, always will."
She winked before taking hold of her rifle and stepping back into the warehouse. Before Corvo could react, she pulled the door shut, the half-smile on her face the last of her Corvo would ever see.
The door locked with a heavy clang, and Corvo frantically tried to pull it open to no avail.
"We have to go now!" shouted Lionel.
Corvo stared at the door, muffled sounds of gunfire audible on the other side.
"She died so you could live," said Lionel. "Don't let it be in vain."
Corvo nodded slowly, knowing he was right. Turning toward the darkness, he started off. He felt lightheaded as he ran, like he was in some kind of strange dream, like he was running underwater. After a time, he caught up with the rest of the group at the recon point.
"Where's Emily?" asked Jace, standing up and looking over Corvo and the rest.
Before anyone could say a word, a deafening explosion sounded from the warehouse in the distance. Corvo watched the place go up in a blossom of fire and debris.
He dropped to his knees, letting out a cry of rage and pain.
***
"Yo, Corvo. Earth to Corvo."
A pale hand shot in front of his face, followed by the crisp snapping of fingers.
"He's doing the staring-off-into-space thing again, boss."
"Give him a sec; you know what he's thinking about."
"I know. But it's been a year; we can't have our Second-in-Command blanking out at random fuckin' times."
"I said, give him a sec."
Corvo shook his head, feeling like he'd just come out of a dream. Looking around him, he saw that he was in the command center at the headquarters of his mercenary crew, the Silver Talons. All around him were the familiar faces of his team. Hoxon, with his sturdy frame and ruddy, Irish features was to his right. Jace, the willowy, classically-beautiful redhead, was seated in front of him, and Mick, broad-shouldered and handsome-faced, was on his left. Standing in front of the massive TV screen that dominated the room was Thorne, the leader of the crew.
"Sorry," he said, rubbing his eyes. "Just kinda slipped away there for a second."
"Don't worry about it," said Thorne, crossing his thick arms under his chest. "Just talking about the latest ops."
The explosion that consumed the warehouse appeared in his mind's eye one last time before Corvo came back to reality.
"Go ahead," said Corvo. "I'm back in the game."
"Good," said Thorne, turning back to the screen.
Corvo couldn't help but feel a little ashamed whenever he found himself randomly thinking about the night he lost Emily. But he couldn't help it – it’d been occupying his thoughts for the last year, sending fresh waves of pain through him whenever it came to mind. He'd failed as a man; he'd failed to protect her. It was like a wound in his heart that refused to heal.
"Anyway," said Thorne, his voice deep and resonant, "I shouldn't need to tell you all, but things have been heating up among the wolves these last few months. Lots of power plays have been going on, and it's looking like we're on the verge of a coup among the wolf higher-ups."
"And chaos for them means money, money, money for us," said Hoxson, a big grin spreading across his face.
"You're goddamn right about that," said Thorne, his own mouth twisting upward on one side. "Wolves want us dragons to protect them from one another, and the bears and the rest of the species want us to keep them as far away from the chaos as possible. We're seeing an uptick in requests for personal bodyguard duty for the first time in decades."
"And that's what this meeting is all about, I assume?" asked Jace.
"That's right," said Thorne. "Over the last week, I've gotten requests for more bodyguard assignments than I know what to do with. So, it's looking like I'm gonna be sending you all on individual ops for the time being."
"Breaking up the team?" asked Mick. "Say it ain't' so."
"It's so," said Thorne. "And every one of these clients are from the upper-crust of the shifters in the city. That means they're all ready to pay a premium for our services. We'll still be meeting up so I can make sure that all the ops are going as they should, but for the next few months, we're all gonna be flying solo."
"Then don't keep us in suspense, boss," said Mick. "Let's see the rich pricks we're gonna be babysitting."
"One at a time," said Thorne. "I want to talk with you all one-on-one to go over the details of the assignments. And Corvo, I want to start with you."
Corvo nodded.
"So the rest of you take a hike," said Thorne with a good-natured tone. "I'll be speaking with you in a minute."
With that, the mercs filed out of the room, leaving Thorne and Corvo alone.
"You alright, buddy?" asked Thorne, his voice carrying through the expanse of the space.
"Sorry, boss," said Corvo. "I know I need to cut this shit out."
"It's fine," said Thorne. "I know we're coming up on a year since we lost Em, and the memories are probably coming back fresh. I just want to make sure that you're mission-ready."
"Good to go," said Corvo. "Not planning on sitting around being dead weight."
"That's the Corvo I know," said Thorne. "So, like I said, I got us all on individual bodyguard duty. Client I got you working with is some little rich wolf, daughter of some shipping magnate on the Upper West Side. You know the Holiday family?"
Corvo's eyes went wide.
"The Holidays are one of our clients?" he asked. "They're not just rich; they're…"
"Whatever word is beyond ‘rich'," said Thorne. "And yeah, they want our services."
Throne typed in a few keys on the laptop in front of him, bringing onto the screen a picture of a young girl.
Corvo nearly fell out of his seat when he laid eyes on the picture – the girl was easily one of the most stunning he'd ever seen in his life. She had fair skin, high cheekbones, hair the color of sunshine, and eyes as bright as sapphires. The picture appeared to have been taken professionally, and Corvo could tell by the slightly haughty expression that played on her full, pillowy lips that she was most definitely a rich girl. An extremely beautiful one, but a rich girl nonetheless.
"This is Grace Holiday," said Thorne. "She's the twenty-one-year-old daughter of the Holiday family."
"Looks like the type used to getting anything she wants handed to her on a silver platter," said Corvo, trying to put her beauty out of his mind as best he could.
"From a family like that? No doubt about it. And from what I hear, she's none too happy about having some roughneck merc shadow her for the next few months."
"That's the mission?" Corvo asked. "Just stay on her tail until…they decide she's not in danger any longer?"
"More or less," said Thorne. "They're in the process of pairing her off with one scion or another from one of the other wealthy wolf families. And I hear that they're not wasting any time about it – they want her good and married off in the next couple of months. I guess they figure that once she's married, guard duty becomes the other family's concern."
"But, for now, it's on us."
"You got it. They're eager to get all of this in motion. You heard about the kidnapping with the girl from the Jackson wolf family, right?"
"Sure did," said Corvo. "What'd they end up paying to get her back?"
Thorne shook his head.
"More than you even want to think about. Now the rest of the upper-crust wolves are all shook up. From what I hear, the Holidays haven't even let their little darling leave their penthouse apartment since that all went down."
"When's the op start?"
"Tonight," said Thorne. "That is, if you feel ready for it."
Corvo didn't like how the rest of the crew had been starting to regard him like some wounded warrior, some extra weight they had to carry around on account of the trauma that just wouldn't let him go. But now Corvo felt eager to get back into to fray and prove that he was back to normal, ready to be a contributing member of the team. He figured that an op that he was solely responsible for would be just the way to demonstrate it.
"I'm more than ready, boss," said Corvo, standing up.
"Just what I wanted to hear," said Thorne. "The Holidays told me that they're ready for their merc as soon as I gave ‘em the details. So, pack up your shit and get ready to move out. Dismissed."
Corvo headed out of the briefing room with a sense of purpose. As he packed, however, a nagging feeling of doubt crept up into his gut. Here he was, a year after failing to protect his woman, now responsible for protecting one more.
But he was ready. He had to be.