Page 275 of Psycho Pack
"Where all the little piggies are hiding," Whiskey says with a crazed grin, empty shells clattering to the floor as he chambers his rifle.
"Nice work with the charges," Ivy calls to Whiskey as we move toward the stairs.
His chest puffs up with pride. "Right? Did you see how the secondary blast created that perfect?—"
"We can discuss demolitions theory later," I cut him off, though I can't quite keep the fondness from my voice. "We need to move."
"Oh,you'reone to talk about talking too much when you shouldn't," Whiskey calls back to me.
Smoke still curls from the twisted remains of the doorframe as I take point and begin our ascent up the stairs. My boots are silent against the polished stone, and behind me, so is Ivy. Even Whiskey isn't making a sound. The Council chambers lie just ahead, but I know better than to think this will be easy.
The guards up here will be different.
Elite forces tasked with protecting the Council at all cost.
Sure enough, as we round the corner to the upper landing, a hail of gunfire forces us back into cover. I catch a glimpse of at least eight guards in tactical gear, arranged in defensive positions around the ornate double doors.
"Subtle approach?" Whiskey whispers with a look that says he already knowing my answer.
"When has that ever worked for us?" I reply dryly.
He smiles wide. "That's what I like to hear."
Before I can stop him, he charges forward with a wild battle cry, spraying suppressing fire from his rifle. The guards scatter, diving for cover behind marble pillars and furniture overturned to create makeshift barriers.
I sigh internally but move to support him, brandishing my blades as I slip into the shadows.
This is how we've always worked.
His chaos creating openings for my precision.
A guard pops up to take aim at Whiskey, but my throwing knife finds his throat before he can squeeze the trigger. Another tries to flank us, and I'm there in an instant, my blade opening his femoral artery in one clean slice.
Whiskey's massive frame draws most of the attention, his bulk making him an obvious target as he keeps up a steady stream of fire. He's leaving himself exposed, but I know better than to tell him to be more careful. Besides, his reckless assault is keeping them from organizing an effective defense.
I spot movement to my left. A guard trying to circle behind us. My blade flashes out, catching the light as it arcs through the air. The guard drops with a gurgle, clutching his throat.
"Show off!" Whiskey calls out as he reloads.
I'm about to retort when I see it. A guard has managed to get into position behind a fallen desk, taking careful aim at Whiskey's exposed back. My heart stops. I'm too far away, my hands empty of throwing knives.
But then a blade whistles past my ear, end over end, and buries itself between the guard's eyes with deadly accuracy. He drops without a sound, his shot going wide.
I whirl around to see Ivy standing there, her eyes wide with slight surprise. She's holding her arm extended in perfect follow-through form.
The remaining guards fall quickly between Whiskey's suppressing fire and my blades. When the last body hits the floor, silence descends on the hallway.
"Nice form," I say to Ivy, unable to keep the pride from my voice.
"You've been holding out on us, wildcat," Whiskey says with an appreciative whistle as he reloads his rifle. "Saved my ass back there."
"Thanks," she says with a little grin.
I move to retrieve her knife from the fallen guard, wiping it clean before returning it to her. Our fingers brush as she takes it, and even through my gloves, I feel the warmth of her touch.
I watch Whiskey's eyes light up with that excited gleam I know all too well as we position ourselves in front of the Council chamber doors. He's been waiting for this moment.
"Allow me," he says, stepping back to get a running start.