Total pages in book: 207
Estimated words: 196971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 985(@200wpm)___ 788(@250wpm)___ 657(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 196971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 985(@200wpm)___ 788(@250wpm)___ 657(@300wpm)
Right. As second-in-command, Aurora knew she had to do a better job at keeping the rookies from pissing in fear. So she tried again, this time with the truth. “Commander Soleil is most likely listening to La Vie En Rose,” Aurora relayed. “The How I Met Your Mother version, just in case you’re wondering.”
The rookies looked at her like she was crazy.
“It means we’re in Code TARFU territory,” she explained. Fighting under Soleil’s command for almost a decade had made Aurora familiar with all the telltale signs concerning their leader. Listening to the nostalgic, bittersweet notes of her favorite song was Soleil’s last-minute aid for strategy planning, which meant it was her job to keep the rookies distracted.
“What’s TARFU?” another rookie asked.
“It means ‘Things Are Really Fucked Up’,” Fleur, the third-in-command, answered as she ran back to rejoin the squad, having finished sending out a message to her network of spies. Or at least she had tried sending it. Everything was really TARFU right now, so there was no telling if her SOS call would push through.
“It could also mean,” the curvy brunette continued thoughtfully, “Totally And Royally Fucked Up—-” She looked up, saw the rookies gazing at her in horror, and behind them, Aurora was hastily shaking her head and drawing an imaginary line across her throat.
Oops.
“Just joking,” Fleur said quickly. “Actually, let Aurora tell you guys the real meaning of TARFU.” As the rookies then turned to Aurora, she mouthed, Sorry, before coughing, “Sesquipedalian.”
Aurora mentally let out an unladylike swear. Basically, Fleur wanted her to confuse the rookies with long, complicated words. Clearing her throat, she said slowly, “TARFU means...Tacent Auxiliary Request for Ultion.” That could work, she thought, considering their probabilities of surviving tonight was 22.4%.
Fleur blinked. “Exactly.” What did that even mean?
The rookies nodded uncertainly, none of them having the courage to ask for a clearer explanation. But they forgot all about it soon enough, seeing their commander opening her eyes and putting away her earpieces.
Soleil smiled at them, her dimples flashing, and the rookies relaxed.
“That’s enough with the joking,” Soleil censured them.
The rookies happily murmured their assent, a combination of wishful thinking and awe allowing them to take comfort in the gracious, dulcet tones of their squad leader.
This was the famous Soleil Orpheline, they assured themselves. A stunning, voluptuous, blue-eyed blonde, she was society’s reigning belle during the day and the dangerously skilled leader of Trois Belle Lames at night.
If Commander Soleil wasn’t nervous about the imps, then they, too, had nothing to worry about.
Behind Soleil, the walls continued to shudder and crack.
Soleil continued to smile, and Fleur and Aurora, taking their cues from her, kept smiles pinned to their lips. Unlike the kids, they knew they were in a life-and-death situation, but if Soleil wanted the kids kept in the dark, then it would be so.
They trusted her to do what was right...no matter what.
Soleil cleared her throat delicately. “Here’s the plan...” The walls started to crumble as Soleil made a series of gestures, a sign language known only to enforcers.
Fleur and Aurora concentrated on Soleil’s instructions, their expressions remaining calm as they read between the lines.
The plan was...that there was no plan at all.
Soleil was totally lying about help coming. Everything about this had the rotten scent of betrayal and ambush, and it had been executed perfectly. If help did come, it would be too late.
Soleil continued to sign, and Fleur and Aurora struggled to stay expressionless.
“Are we all clear on this then?” Her dimples flashed again, and the rookies’ anxiety lessened even more.
“Ma’am, yes, ma’am,” they roared energetically, their confidence restored by their leader’s calm manner.
Totally clear, Fleur thought, her mood turning unnaturally grim. Soleil was telling them that as the city’s last line of defense, they had to place duty above all else.
Aurora didn’t answer right away. Soleil’s plan was to detonate her grenades, which all officers were trained to use in case they were compromised.
The grenades would take out the commander, but it would also get rid of a large number of imps, maybe just enough for them to have a fighting chance for survival.
But Aurora didn’t want a fighting chance for just them, and as the supposedly ‘brainy’ one of their group, she pressured herself to come up with an alternative.
“Aurora?” Soleil needed both officers’ cooperation for her plan to work.
“I’m thinking,” Aurora mumbled.
Soleil shook her head. “We don’t have time—-”
A narrow section of the dungeon’s wall collapsed.
“Take your positions,” Soleil commanded, and the rookies, resolved looks on their faces, followed right away.
A handful of imps burst out of the hole.
“Engage.”
The battle ensued, and Soleil bided her time while keeping an eye on her team, making sure that no one was taking any unnecessary risks. She slipped her hands into her pockets, her fingers finding and wrapping around the twin grenades.