Gripp

4

GRIPP

The shackles clanked at Gripp’s wrists as he moved. The ones on his feet were even noisier. Even though he couldn’t shift, he still had considerable strength despite the draining handcuffs, and the heavy weight of the chains meant little to him.

Still, they were tough enough to keep the strongest shifters from fighting. Not that he could fight back, even though he desperately wanted to.

Inside a government-looking building, Gripp and the guys walked down a wide, featureless hallway, guards flanking him front and back. In terms of making an escape, he was currently in the best possible situation so far.

They were on the way to see the general, and Gripp didn’t know if this was going to be bad news or not. They could be prepared to execute him, for all he knew. The soldiers around him didn’t speak … he didn’t expect them to. Asking questions wouldn’t get him anywhere.

Ahead, a guard opened a door, and they were admitted to the general’s office. General Nydia herself sat behind a big desk, watching him. To her right stood a soldier at attention, and Gripp did a double take when he saw it was his old pal Cannon.

He raised an eyebrow, but Cannon didn’t react. Only the slightest twitch of Cannon’s lips showed he had caught the movement. Gripp tore his eyes from his friend’s impassive face and looked at the general.

She studied him, her chin resting on her joined hands. He stood quietly between the guards, his mind spinning, trying to figure out what was going on.

“Gripp,” the General said. “We have a proposition for you.”

Gripp’s eyes flicked to Cannon, who was no help. He just kept staring forward. Gripp looked back at Nydia.

“I’m anxious to hear it,” he said.

The general smiled, and Gripp did not like it at all. It was the cold look of someone setting a trap, knowing its prey would fall into it very soon.

“There is a current mission that we believe you’d be perfect for. It’s very dangerous. Only someone of your skill set would have any hope of succeeding and getting out alive. You will be given your freedom if you can complete this mission.”

Hope surged through him. He tried to move his hands, and the cuffs jingled against his wrists.

“What are the details?” Gripp asked.

“In Eblax, there’s a mining operation of considerable concern. We’ve had two investigative journalists disappear in the area. Recently, we were sent this video.”

General Nydia took out a small remote and pointed it at the wall. A screen flickered to life, and Gripp watched carefully. He could already tell by the way a solitary, bedraggled figure sat on a chair in the center of the frame this was going to go badly.

A black bag was ripped off the guy’s head. The bad guy who stood behind him wore a full-face mask. They concealed their own identities but clearly wanted the viewers to know who the victim was.

“It’s Wes, one of the most well-known investigative journalists in the business,” Nydia said softly.

Gripp watched while the bad guys shouted to each other and roughed up the prisoner a bit. Then, one of the bad guys stepped up to the reporter and laid a huge machete against the man’s neck. Seconds later, he was decapitated.

“They have another reporter imprisoned there, or so we believe,” the general said. “Her name is April. April Meinham.”

She clicked a button on the remote, and a young girl appeared on the screen. It was only a still photograph, but Gripp was stirred by her beauty. Her brown eyes were deep and dark, her hair a pale gold halo around her pretty face.

What’s a girl like that doing caught up in this?

“We haven’t heard from her in weeks,” the General said. “We can only assume the worst. We need you to infiltrate the base and bring her back unharmed. She happens to be the daughter of an ambassador, so this is a particularly sensitive issue.”

“I understand,” Gripp said. “You want me to go in alone and rescue this girl?”

The General nodded. “I believe a single special forces soldier who already knows the area will have greater success than a full assault team, and we want this to be kept quiet, if possible. We don’t want to start a full-on incursion.”

Of course, they didn’t want to draw attention to the place. Crooked government officials were still associated with it, but they still needed the girl rescued. And he knew exactly where she was. This would be a piece of cake.

Gripp nodded, holding up his shackles. “So, I’m supposed to do this with my hands tied?”

“If you agree, you will be immediately released. Your inhibitor chip will be replaced by GPS, so you can literally run, but not hide, should you choose to defect. Once your mission is complete, you will be given complete freedom.”

Gripp looked up at Cannon, who was still staring straight ahead. His friend made eye contact very briefly and gave a short nod.

Gripp did not want to trust them … he didn’t trust anybody … but he knew he had absolutely no choice if he wanted freedom and his shifter half back.

“I’ll do it,” he said. Gripp was already planning how he might get the tracker out of his neck. He was also beginning to feel that taking his rage out on a bunch of child-abusing lowlifes who enjoyed torturing others might be a very cathartic experience.

“Excellent,” Nydia said, standing. “Will there be any requirements for the mission we need to know?”

Gripp gave her a rundown of the tools and weapons he might need. He kept the list short, confined to the bare necessities he could carry on him in a small backpack. He didn’t want to be weighed down.

In and out. Rescue the girl, blow up some assholes, then run back to freedom!

The General barked out a few orders. Gripp was taken from the room and down the hallway. He wished that he’d been allowed to speak to Cannon, even if it was only for a few minutes. Clearly, his old friend knew something he didn’t.

The soldiers took him to a med bay, where he was immediately prepped for the procedure of having his chip removed. Gripp considered escaping the moment the inhibitor chip was taken out before they could insert the GPS, but to his dismay, he was given a sedative as well as a local anesthesia.

He was on a small bunk in an empty room when he woke. His fatigues and pack were at the foot of the bed. Gripp suited up and went to the door.

"This way,” the soldier said.