Page 12 of Heartless Enemy

“Indeed,” Jamila said, and cut a sharp look down the corridor towards where the captain’s office was. “Wright is a bully.”

“Keep your voice down,” Frank hissed.

“This is me keeping my voice down,” Jamila snapped back. Flicking her dark curls behind her shoulder, she gave him and the rest of our colleagues a pointed look. “And I know you agree with me. All of you do.”

Several people cast worried glances towards the hallway, but no one contradicted her. So, apparently I wasn’t the only one who disliked Wright and his petty need to exert his authority.

“He’s working on it,” I said.

Stunned surprise bounced from face to face as they all turned to stare at me.

“Ulric,” I clarified. “He said that he is working on a plan to come back.”

Jamila’s eyes lit up, and a smile spread across Frank’s angular face too. But before any of them could speak, the door to the captain’s office was shoved open and Wright stuck his head out.

“Sterling,” he called. “Get in here.”

“Well,” I said in a low voice to my colleagues while pushing up from my chair. “The master calls.”

A few of my colleagues chuckled.

Leaving them behind, I strode down the hall and then walked in through the still open door. Wright was standing by one of the bookshelves, his back to me, as I entered.

“Sir?” I said in my most pleasant tone.

“Get me a cup of coffee,” he ordered.

An overwhelming urge to set him on fire crashed into me. Flexing my fingers, I barely managed to stop myself from summoning a fireball and doing just that. Instead, I gritted my teeth and drew in a calming breath through my nose.

Then I replied, “Yes, sir.”

It took great effort not to stomp angrily as I walked back out into the corridor to follow his orders. I contemplated whether to locate some poison and put it into his coffee as I made my way down to the restaurant section of the building. But I decided against it. Poison would be a far too peaceful death for him. I wanted it to be violent and bloody.

With a cup of poison-free coffee in my hands, I walked back into Wright’s office a short time later with a composed expression plastered on my face.

“Here you go, sir,” I said as I approached him where he still stood by the bookshelves, except by another one this time.

“Put it on the desk.”

Squeezing the cup hard, I smothered the impulse to throw the coffee in his face and instead walked over to the desk. With a quick look over my shoulder, I confirmed that Wright was still busy searching for something on the shelves. Then I took my time setting the cup down while quickly scanning the documents waiting on the desk.

My heart leaped.

One of the papers detailed a plan for the invasion of the south side that I assumed Wright was going to propose to Chief Anderson. The route was as I had expected, so that was nothing new. But it did specify that Wright suggested waiting at least another two or three weeks before launching the invasion so that they could formulate a better plan to counteract the new type of resistance they would face from a united south side.

Two or three weeks.

That was great news.

If Chief Anderson approved Wright’s suggestion, it would mean that we might actually be able to pull off our plan to ambush the parliament before the invasion happened.

Giddiness sparkled inside my chest as I finished setting down the cup and then drew back.

“Anything to report from your room?” Captain Wright suddenly asked.

I turned to face him. He was still searching through folders on his shelves and didn’t even bother to look at me.

“No, sir,” I replied.