Blood Fury

When I heard the thump of footsteps, I peeked through the balusters. In all my time with the BlackGuard, we’d summoned the STF maybe twice. If the BGS could be considered akin to the FBI, the STF was the CIA. Its agents even wore the same requisite black suits.

Two burly males in dark glasses and a willowy female sporting a bright-red pixie cut entered the long hall. She flashed her badge.

“I’m Agent Scully.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “This is Agent Fox and Agent Mulder.”

Ace planted his feet and crossed his arms. “As I said before—”

She held up her palm. “We’re looking for Morgan Vladislav.”

“Why?”

“We’re not here to play games, Mr. Broussard.” She reached into her suit coat and pulled out a paper. “We have a warrant for your arrest as well as Ms. Vladislav.”

One of the beefy guys, a ruddy-complexioned male with cropped blond hair, said, “We can do this the hard way if you prefer. Please let us do it the hard way.”

I stood and walked down the steps. “That won’t be necessary.”

Ace looked to me. “Dawlin’, ya should have stayed upstairs. I could have taken them.”

“So that more STF could come for us?”

Agent Scully didn’t crack a smile. She gestured to her brutes. The blond came for me while the African American materialized a set of dampening restraints. Within seconds, they had Ace and me cuffed.