"Put me down, you giant oaf," Carol laughed, smacking Grant's shoulder. "You're going to break my ribs."
"As if." Grant set her down. "You're much tougher than you look." He kept his hands on her shoulders. "Fates, it's good to see you safe, even if your hair is a mousy shade of brown. Why did you color it?"
"Always with the compliments, Grant. Do you make all the girls swoon with those one-liners?" She let the other two embrace her as well.
Lokan observed the group from a few feet away, marveling at the camaraderie between his small mate and the three hulking Guardians. She'd trained with them only for a short period of time, but it seemed that she'd earned a place in their hearts.
"Hello, Lokan." Grant extended his hand. "I'm Grant. This is Camden and Dougal. We're your escort to the border."
"Thank you," Lokan said. "Though I wasn't expecting an aerial arrival. I was about to throw Carol in the van and speed away."
"Smart instincts," Camden said. "Turner's contact suggested this after our flight was delayed, and we gladly accepted his offer."
"Speaking of which." Dougal opened one of the large duffel bags they'd brought. "Compliments of Onegus." He pulled a compact submachine gun along with extra magazines out of the bag. "I hope you still remember how to use this."
"An MP5?" Carol's eyes lit up. "Oh, you beautiful man. Give it here."
"Thought you'd approve." Dougal handed the equipment to her. "Grant has your tactical vest and sidearm. Lokan, we brought you an AK-47. Figured you knew how to handle it."
Lokan accepted the familiar weight of the rifle. He'd carried one through half the world's conflict zones over the decades. "It's like riding a bicycle," he murmured.
"A deadly bicycle," Grant agreed. "Right, let's get this gear loaded and get moving." He looked at the van and winced. "Is that thing operable?"
"It runs better than it looks," Lokan said. "You can tell the pilot that he can leave."
Grant turned around and signaled to the pilot.
The guy gave him a two-fingered salute, and a couple of moments later, took off, kicking up another cloud of dust.
“I wish we could just take a ride in that helicopter,” Carol said. “Regrettably, even if we can thrall the pilot to take us over the border, the Russians will shoot it down.”
“Or force us to turn back,” Lokan added.
"One more thing." Grant reached into his pocket and pulled out two small cases. "Earpieces compliments of William."
"Thank you." Lokan reached for the cases and handed one to Carol. "Are these the ones that filter compulsion?"
"No, just regular Guardian communications," Grant said.
"Good enough." Carol put the case in her pocket.
They piled into the van, the Guardians somehow managing to fit themselves and their equipment into the back.
"Fates," Camden muttered. "This is cozy."
"It was all we could get on short notice," Carol said. "And I'll have you know that I spent an hour this morning cleaning it. You should have smelled it before."
"What was it hauling? Dead yaks?" Grant snorted at his own lame joke.
As Lokan pulled onto the rutted road, Carol twisted in her seat to face the Guardians. "So, what's the deal with the enhanced Doomers Kian warned us about? The two Lokan encountered on the train were nothing special. He thralled them to turn around with ease."
"You were lucky." Grant leaned forward, his jovial demeanor nowhere in sight. "The three we encountered during the raids were nothing like what we've been used to."
"I watched one take three shots to center mass and keep fighting," Camden added. "Their pain tolerance is through the roof."
"Supposedly, some of them can go weeks without sleep," Dougal continued. "Just imagine what that means. They can keep hunting without stopping for rest."
"That's impossible." Carol waved a dismissive hand. "Not even immortals can do that."
