Later that evening

Nigel awoke in a hospital bed, but he wasn’t in a hospital.

“Good, you’re awake,” a man said.

Nigel couldn’t see the man clearly due to the overhead positioning of the lights, as well as the smoke emanating from the man.

“Who are you?” Nigel asked.

“I’m Damien Wilde, but my friends call me Dragon.”

Nigel looked around the room. He could hear several people but couldn’t make out any of the words. He could also hear the engines of vehicles and aircraft.

“You’re safe for the time being, but we will need to move out soon. If Chen hasn’t sent for you soon, then you will come with us.”

“Where?”

“I’m not going to divulge that information just yet—not all the Angels are accounted for.”

“Sally—she was captured. I tried to get to her, but the men . . .” Nigel trailed off.

“I know, son. It’s not your fault. She knew the risks. She’s a good soldier; she will not give us up.”

“Thank you for attending to my injuries.”

“It’s the least we could do, but we should be thanking you.”

“For what?”

“You took a bullet for the Angels, and we don’t forget our friends. If you ever need us, we will be there.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The man gave Nigel something on a gold chain. Nigel noticed the man was in his mid-forties and had an eye patch. His sleeveless black shirt revealed a tattoo of an enormous snake fighting with a dragon.

Nigel held up the gold chain; attached to it was a pendant that resembled an angel made of obsidian.

“If you ever find yourself in need, just show that emblem to any Dark Angel and they will die for you. You are one of us now,” Damien said as he left.

Moments later, Norris and several engineers came to check on Nigel.

“How you holding up, kid?” Norris asked.

“Better, but my arm and shoulder feel like they got run through a meat grinder,” Nigel answered.

“I know that feeling well, but it will pass. I just wanted to let you know someone from Chen’s organization will pick you up soon.”

“Are we going after Sally?”

Norris gave Nigel a pained look. It was the most emotion he’d seen from the man.

“As much as it pains Damien to leave his little girl in the custody of the Feds, we cannot go after her. Too much is at stake.”

“Sally is his daughter?”

“Yeah, she’s had a rough go of it. She will need to endure captivity—for the time being, anyway.”

Nigel repressed a pang of guilt.

I’ll help you, Sally, but Jet also needs my help.

“It was a pleasure working with you, sir,” an engineer who looked like he was fifteen said.

“What’s your name?” Nigel asked.

“Where are my manners? This is Chip, he is my son,” Norris said.

Nigel was speechless. He had no idea that Norris took his family on missions. Chip was the engineer that Norris had given the gun to.

Brave kid—but it probably goes with the territory of having a commando for a father.

The other engineers introduced themselves, and Nigel took mental notes of their names: Phillip, Jack, and Blaine.

Nigel heard some commotion some distance away; he couldn’t tell what was going on, but several men were shouting, and he heard the clicking sounds of weapons.

“Stand down,” Damien said.

“I think your ride is here. It was a pleasure working with you, son,” Norris said.

Nigel gave Norris a nod.

Moments later, Blanka was escorted in by Damien. Nigel tried to get out of bed and almost fell. The engineers helped him stand.

“Bring him to the car,” Blanka said.

Nigel and Blanka were driving through a darkened forest, heading back to the city.

“Where are we?” Nigel asked.

“Southern Connecticut,” she replied. “The Dark Angels have several bases among the islands just off the coast.”

“Thanks for picking me up. Are you taking me to see Jet?”

Blanka didn’t say anything for a long time.

“No, Nigel, I’m sorry, but you’re needed at the Bromwick.”