Inferno: the thrilling final novel in the Talon saga from New York Times bestselling author Julie Kagawa. Julie Kagawa

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      “We’ll be fine.” I glanced at Tristan as he slid down and crouched low as I had done. “This is part of the plan. We’re not here to fight the whole train. We just need to get in, get to the prototype and get out quickly. It shouldn’t be too heavily guarded—no one is expecting an attack, especially one where people drop onto the roof from dragons.” I half smiled at her, and she rolled her eyes. “Just follow the train and stay close,” I continued, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Be ready to come swooping in when it’s time. If everything goes according to plan, we’ll be leaving the train from car six in approximately ten minutes.”

      Her eyes narrowed. “And if everything does not go according to plan?”

      Tristan snorted, keeping his body bent horizontal to the roof as he joined us. “Then we’ll still need that extraction,” he told the dragon. “Just double time.”

      “Oh, sure, we can do that,” Cobalt added, creeping behind him like a giant blue cat, his wings fluttering wildly in the wind. “Go ahead and hurl yourself off the roof of the train, St. George. I promise, I’ll try my best to catch you.”

      Ember sighed. “Be careful, Garret,” she whispered, drawing away. The wind ripped at me almost instantly, cold and eager to push me off the edge. “Don’t get killed over this. We’ll be close. If you’re not on the roof in ten minutes, I’m coming in after you.”

      “Ten minutes,” I told her. “See you then.”

      Ember crouched, half opened her wings and sprang off the car, blasting me with wind as she rose into the air. A second later, Cobalt did the same, and the two dragons soared up into the darkness until they were lost from sight.

      I glanced at Tristan, and he nodded. Now it was our turn. Ember and Cobalt had done their part in getting us here unseen. It was up to us to find the prototype, subdue any opposition guarding it and get out before the rest of the guards discovered what was going on.

      We crept along the roof, keeping our footsteps light and our shoulders braced against the wind, until we reached the hatch at one of the corners. Our objective was two cars down, but there was a guard car between us, with armed soldiers inside. Even if Ember and Riley had been as quiet as they could, two dragons with a pair of riders landing on the roof of a metal car with soldiers still inside would have drawn attention and given us away. We couldn’t swoop onto the prototype car, not without alerting the US military to the existence of dragons. We had to take care of the guards before we went after the prototype.

      As Tristan pulled open the hatch and shined a flashlight into the pitch-blackness within, a shadow overhead caught my attention. I glanced up to see two dragon-shaped blurs against the night sky, dark wings outstretched as they glided after the train. Ember and Cobalt, right where they’d said they would be.

      “Clear,” Tristan said at my shoulder. “Let’s move.”

      I switched on my flashlight, pulled out my weapon with my other hand and dropped through the hatch.

      I hit a metal floor in a crouch, then quickly scanned my surroundings for enemies. The narrow space was empty, the walls bare. I stepped aside as Tristan landed next to me with a barely audible thump, and we crept toward the door at the end of the box. The metal barrier was latched but not locked, and we quickly slipped through onto the platform of the next car, pressing ourselves beside the doorframe. After a moment of silence, I knelt at the door and opened a compartment on my vest to pull out a long black tube, while Tristan stood at the frame and watched my back.

      Silently, I fed the snake cam through the crack beneath the door, watching the screen as I turned the night vision lens to scan the room beyond. There were two soldiers standing in the room about fifteen feet from the door, talking to each other. Their postures were relaxed, though both carried M16s in their hands. They obviously weren’t expecting an attack, but we’d have to be quick. If we ignored these two guards, they would engage us while we were trying to make our escape.

      I pulled the snake cam out and held up two fingers to Tristan, indicating the room beyond. He nodded and swung out of his pack, then pulled out strips of breaching charges before handing them to me. When the charges had been placed over the locks and hinges, we retreated back to the first car, and Tristan held up three fingers. Two. One.

      Both of us turned away as the boom of an explosion rocked the night and sent smoke billowing from the door. Before the smoke had even cleared, Tristan rushed to the frame, kicked in the crippled door and tossed a flashbang into the room.

      Shouts of alarm came from inside, just as a retina-burning flash pierced the darkness, followed by a muffled boom of energy. I lunged through the frame and saw a pair of dazed, reeling soldiers just before Tristan and I slammed into them. My soldier didn’t resist as I snaked an arm around his throat and sent him into unconsciousness.

      Lowering the limp sentry to the floor, I looked up at Tristan, who nodded grimly as he released the second unconscious guard. That took care of this car, but the one with our objective in it was surely going to be more of a challenge. Any soldiers in it had certainly heard the explosions caused by charges and flashbangs and would know that they were under attack. They’d be ready for us.

      Swiftly, we moved to the other end of the car. As we pressed to either side of the frame, Tristan nodded at me, and I quickly pushed open the door.

      A hail of machine gun fire rang out. I jerked back as a storm of bullets peppered the frame, sparking off the railings and metal walls. Apparently, the guards had decided to take the initiative and not wait for us to kick in the door. From the sounds of the weapons, two soldiers stood to either side of the frame, firing M16s in sharp three-round bursts at us. Tristan and I pressed back behind the doorframe, sparks flying around us, and waited for an opportunity to move. I had a flashbang in hand, but the soldiers were giving us no chance to counterstrike. If I poked any body part out of cover now, I would get a bullet through it.

      There was a roar overhead, a swooping of leathery wings, and a curtain of fire suddenly appeared between us and the soldiers. It blazed against the darkness, blindingly hot and intense, and the storm of gunfire ceased amid loud cursing and cries of alarm. The shadow swooped up and out of sight, too fast to be seen clearly, but for a few seconds the soldiers gaped after it, stunned. Long enough for me to pop out and hurl the flashbang at their feet.

      The force of the explosion threw one soldier into the wall, where he collapsed, motionless. The other staggered back, reeling, and Tristan leaped over the space between cars, kicked him in the stomach and followed with a savage right hook to the guard’s temple that knocked him senseless.

      The way to our objective was clear. Quickly, we ducked through the door, wary for more soldiers lying in ambush, but the car was empty save for a narrow wooden table in the middle of the floor. A lamp sat atop it, bathing the table in a dim orange glow, and in the center of the light lay a long case of glimmering metal.

      Tristan let out a breath, reached out and pulled the case toward him. It was almost certainly our objective, but we had to make sure. The case was padlocked shut, but a pair of heavy-duty bolt cutters took care of that problem. The latch released with a click, and Tristan yanked it open.

      “Oh, yes,” he murmured as the lid fell back. A long, long black barrel lay gleaming in the cutout foam padding, much larger than a standard rifle barrel and three times as thick. It was obviously meant to be fired from a stand or tripod, as it would be far too heavy for a single person to lift, much less aim. The rest of the weapon had been disassembled and lay in pieces in various foam cutouts, but Tristan stroked the length of the barrel with an almost maniacal glint in his eye. СКАЧАТЬ