Chapter 23

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Alec stood in front of his attackers, grateful for the gun in his hand, though he knew he only had a certain number of shots left. One less bullet now that Krenski was dead. Idiot. Like pressing a button was going to stop Alec from killing him. He only regretted not killing him earlier, but he knew that Max and Logan would've wanted him alive. Too bad.

Again, he found himself thinking that a Manticore gun would've been nice, like a machine gun or maybe a grenade-launcher. At least none of these guys looked or smelled like Reds, but the odds here were against him. There were fourteen of them and one of him, and they probably all had fully loaded weapons.

Taking the casual approach, he cocked his head to the side. "Come on, guys, can't we be civilized about this?" Hot lead whistled past his ear, and wood chips exploded from a crate somewhere behind him. "Guess not."

Blurring, Alec dove behind a random metal half-wall. Warehouses were always full of things like places to hide and duck behind, as if they were set up for gun fights and paintball wars. He turned around and started shooting, using the wall to steady his arms even though it wasn't really necessary. X5s were built and trained for this kind of situation, and very few things could mess with his precision.

After he dropped a couple of their number with clean shots, the Ordinaries got the hint and took cover. Alec killed a fourth, clipped another in the leg and a big fat one in the arm, but those wounding shots weren't going to kill, though he had severed a tendon in the big one that would keep him from shooting with that hand.

He was careful but quick with his remaining bullets. One of the men stuck his red-haired head out from behind a pole and had the chance to regret it for a split second before Alec's bullet found him.

The fat guy seemed ambidextrous and surprisingly agile. He managed to haul himself out from behind a low wall to shoot at Alec. All he got for his troubles was another messed up arm, but hey, at least the guy had some courage.

He wondered if Quip was paying attention to his order to stay put or if she had moved into a different position. As far as he knew, she would defect to her training and listen to him in a combat incident, but he wasn't entirely briefed on X8 protocol. She could technically have some sort of self-preservation brainwashing and suddenly view everyone as an enemy once shots were fired, though that didn't really make sense. He hoped that wasn't the case, anyways. He preferred to have her on his side instead of against him.

Bullets pelted the wall behind him, but none of them came close to hitting him. Crouched down, he moved along the wall he was hiding behind and crept toward where he had hidden Quip. Maybe now that there were less thugs, he could grab her and get out of here.

Too bad she wasn't there anymore.

"Damn it, Quip," he growled. What didn't she get about the command, 'stay here?' It was easy, right? Plant your butt on the ground and stay. Irritated, he caught her scent and moved along the trail she had left. No, he didn't have her freakish nose, but he still had predator in him; he could smell that kid and keep up with her.

At least until she slipped through a crack too small for him.

Alec glared at the tiny space between the boxes. What the hell was she, a contortionist? Oh, wait, she was. By now, the for-hires had realized he had moved. Why they were shooting at him when their source of money was coloring the concrete a pretty red was beyond him, but maybe they were just thorough. Or maybe that wasn't Krenski? Or they had another source of payment...

Krenski was a Russian, and he was working with that mafia. Maybe it didn't stop at him. But these were questions for Logan to peer out his rainy window and ponder over, not for Alec to contemplate while he was hunting down his errant and elusive annoying X8 sister.

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