The Gender Plan (The Gender Game #6)

29





Viggo





I fired another round at a group of cars that several men had scrambled behind, picking them out using the night vision goggles I had scavenged from one of the dead gang members. I pushed them back from the building, trying to keep as many of them as possible from getting to the doors before Mags got there. When we’d begun firing on the Porteque gang members from their own building, the intersection had erupted into chaos—I’d seen fighting between the members well before they’d even thought to fire back at us, and the sight gave me a savage pleasure.

The gun clicked empty, and I ejected the magazine. In the room beside me, Alejandro continued to fire. I heard a rifle go off in the hallway and gritted my teeth.

“Report!” I roared, into the microphone and down the hall at once.

“Tim’s on the move, as are we. Entering the park.”

“Two down on the stairs.”

April and Mags spoke at the same time, but I picked out what was said simply by context as I slid a new magazine into place, my eyes tracking Mags’ group’s progress down the sidewalk in the park below. My eyes flew right as I saw something shift on the building across from us, and I pressed the stock of my gun into my shoulder, firing in short, controlled bursts at the rooftop several hundred feet below.

“Marna and I took out the group trying to flank us on the left. She is an amazing shot. Tells me she had a good teacher.” I acknowledged Cruz’s report, not having time to really register the compliment, just satisfied they were holding their own over there. My rounds streaked red, giving the goggles a bit more light, and I readjusted and fired another burst, watching the man who had been creeping up on the edge of the building jerk and fall. I stared at the shadows for a second, looking for movement, and then glanced at Mags again.

“We got guns out front,” she shouted into the mic, and I saw her leap back a few steps, bright white flashes on the screen making her disappear and reappear. She was firing, as were several of the group around her, creating havoc in my vision.

“I’m sending a few people down to help you,” I replied, disconnecting and looking at Alejandro. “Get down there and take one from each room… and April. You’ll be in charge until you get to Mags. Take out the guys who are pinning them down, and get our team into the building.”

My main channel beeped, and I quickly switched over while Alejandro moved out of the room.

“Viggo, I’m in position,” Ms. Dale said. “What’s your status?”

Before replying, I fired another few rounds at the car. I must’ve gotten too close for comfort, because the Porteque members behind the car were running, and a little bit of satisfaction grew in me. “We’re two blocks away. Mags and her team are in a firefight, but we’ve got the advantage on them, and we’ll be able to control the situation and get there soon.”

“There isn’t a lot of time—”

“I know. But this needs to be done too. I’ll be there.” I fired at the men again, two falling while the other two made it out of my sight. Switching over to the team channel, I pressed my fingers together. “It’s going quiet down there. Anyone have visual on any targets?”

“No,” replied Cruz over the comm, which was good, considering he was two apartments down. Even with the thin walls, I doubted I could hear him over the sound of continuous gunfire. “They are dead or have fled.”

“Not quite yet,” I said. “Alejandro’s heading down to handle the people in front of the building.” My eyes returned to Mags and her team, huddled down low behind the brick half-wall that surrounded the park.

“I’m already down here, boyo,” Alejandro replied in my ear, and I heard the pop pop pop of the guns below suddenly pick up and increase. Through the goggles, I saw Mags and her team start firing, the sound rising to a steady cadence for a moment, and then falling silent.

“Street’s cleared,” Alejandro said, and I relaxed a little, watching as Mags and her team raced for the glass doors below me and out of my sight. I pulled off the goggles and set them down by the window. “We got a few scrapes and bruises,” the older man continued, “but nobody’s been shot.”

“Resupply with ammo on the second floor,” I said, pressing my fingers together. “I need four volunteers willing to stay behind and defend the position. I’m not just leaving a group of unarmed women in a city that’s tearing itself apart, so we’ll free them, find them some clothes, and arm them. For the volunteers, that means missing out on the showdown at the plant, but hey—this is the first taste of battle, and it’s okay to admit it if you can’t handle it. Now, hopefully that doesn’t mean all of you will race to take one of the volunteer positions…”

I heard Harry give a loud laugh in the other room, glad that it could ease the tension a little, in spite of what had just happened. I hoped other people who had heard it laughed as well, because that would help soften the blow that followed. “We have no time to rest, people. I’m sorry for that, but everyone is waiting for us at that plant. Once we get there, things are going to start immediately, and it’ll be a lot like this, possibly even worse. And I know it’s scary. I feel it—we all do. But we have a chance, a very real chance, to save this city, and show Elena that we are no longer running! This is where we make our stand. This is where we show her we can stop her. Let’s put a little fear in her heart for once.”

It was hard to tell how my speech went over, considering I was all alone in the room, but as I came out into the hall, Cruz was lounging against the doorframe to his room, one foot planted on the wall, his rifle balanced over his knee. “That was some speech,” he said with a twisted grin. “Very motivating.”

The way he said it made me suddenly doubt myself. I stared at him for a minute, and then moved downstairs, the compunction to immediately free those women overriding everything else for the moment. I’d ordered Gregory to help find the volunteers needed to hold the building for a few hours before we could come back for them. Hopefully.

Margot was exiting the corner room, pulling the door closed behind her, when I came down. She gave me a small smile. “That was a good speech,” she said softly. “It almost makes me feel bad about volunteering to stay behind.”