“Oh, hey. This is Tate.” Yurik thumped the tattooed troll across the chest.
“What’s up?”
Cheyenne gave him a little smile. “Nice to meet you.”
Yurik clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “You got any plans for the rest of the day?”
“It’s still Tuesday, right?”
The agents laughed, and the muscular goblin just nodded. “Yeah, halfling. It’s still Tuesday. Listen, we’re heading down to Union Hill in about ten minutes. Gotta go change first. Figured we’d stop by the pub, have some drinks. Pretend to forget about what happened this morning. You interested?”
“Drinking with you guys?” Cheyenne squinted at them, her smile growing wider. “You don’t care about bringing a civilian with you?”
“No one gives a shit about that,” Tate replied. “You’re half-drow, man. And at this point, you might as well be one of us anyway. That’s the only thing that matters.”
Bhandi snorted. “So, you in, or what?”
Taking a deep breath, the halfling shrugged. “Why the hell not?”
“That’s right.” Yurik pointed at her. “There literally isn’t a good answer to that question. Hang out here. We’ll be back in a jiff.”
The troll woman turned toward him and raised an eyebrow. “In a jiff?”
“That’s what I said.”
Tate turned with his fellow agents. “Nobody actually says that.”
“Well, I just did. Maybe I’m bringing it back. You ever think of that, you inked-up grape?”
Cheyenne watched them walk away, and she couldn’t help a little smile. Drinking with magical FRoE operatives. Yeah, why the hell not?
When the trio came back almost exactly ten minutes later, they’d all changed out of their black fatigues and into civilian clothing. Bhandi wore a pair of maroon corduroys almost the same color as the scarlet braids falling down her back. The t-shirt and gray blazer made her look a lot more friendly. Tate came out in a white t-shirt and jeans, and Yurik apparently thought mustard-yellow pants and a sweater with jagged stripes in brown and bright-orange were a good look for bar hopping.
Cheyenne choked back a laugh. “Where’d you find that getup?”
“What?” The muscular troll glanced down at his clothes, the yellow braid running down the center of his otherwise bald blue-green head swinging behind his neck. “It’s fall, right? I’m autumnal.”
“Yeah, okay.”
Tate let out a low laugh. “Come on. Better get outta here before somebody decides we look like we could use more paperwork.”
They headed across the common room, which was still fairly empty except for two ogres sitting on the couch watching a basketball game on the huge flatscreen mounted above the fireplace. One of them thumped the other in the chest. “They call it a slam-dunk. Ha. I could get the ball in a net twice as high.”
“Yeah, right. You can’t even get your trash in the right can.”
Biting back another laugh, Cheyenne followed her new maybe-friends through the much shorter hallway leading out toward the lobby of the FRoE compound. Nobody sat at the little cubicles lining the back of the room, but apparently, these guys didn’t need to check out of anywhere.
“How often do you guys get to leave like this?”
“About twice a month, usually.” Yurik turned and walked backward toward the front door, spreading his arms. “Unless we get into some really hairy shit like this morning. Then we get the rest of the day off to do whatever we want.”
“If we’re not laid up with Minkert, anyway.” Tate snorted and rubbed his shaved purple head. There were swirling designs tattooed on his scalp, too.
“Man, Payton’s gonna be so pissed when she finds out we went without her.” Bhandi shot Yurik a warning look.
“So what? She’s always pissed.” Yurik held the door open for everyone, letting it swing shut again after Cheyenne stepped outside into the early evening light. “We’ll take her out again when Minkert’s done with her.”
“Yeah, whenever it is.” Tate pointed at the troll. “You gonna try sneaking her out for an extra night off base?”
“Not like I haven’t done it before.”
The agents laughed and walked quickly across the parking lot, almost bouncing in their excitement to get the hell out of there. Cheyenne stuck her hands into the pockets of her black canvas jacket, ignoring the weight of the FRoE burner phone against her left hand. This is gonna be an interesting night.
The line of black FRoE vehicles looked exactly the same as the last time she’d walked down it. Better not get any needles in my back this time.
Yurik stopped at one of the black Range Rovers and pulled open the driver-side door. “Okay, it’s in here somewhere. Oh. Yep!”
He pulled a keyless fob out from under the floormat and turned toward the others, dangling it with a grin. “Ta-da.”
“Nope. Uh-uh.” Bhandi lurched toward him and snatched the key fob out of his hand. “You drove the last two times, and I could’ve downed two pitchers of grog in the time you wasted getting us there.”
“Hey, at least I got us there.” Yurik spread his arms and tipped forward in a little bow.
Tate snorted. “But you drive like my grandma.”
“Like Sir’s grandma,” Bhandi added. “Off her meds.”
Cheyenne laughed. “He’s used that one on you too, huh?”
“Pretty sure everyone’s heard about Sir’s grandma.” Shaking his head, Yurik stepped around the front of the Range Rover and opened the passenger-side door.
Tate opened the door behind Bhandi and gestured inside. “Hop in, halfling.”
Cheyenne didn’t have to be told twice. She climbed into the back seat behind Yurik as Bhandi started the car. Tate jumped in beside her and slammed the door.
“Better buckle up,” Yurik muttered.
“Oh, come on.” Bhandi laughed and shifted into drive. “I’m a good driver.”
“Yeah, on a racetrack, maybe—woah!”
The Range Rover squealed across the asphalt as they lurched forward in a fast, tight turn. Cheyenne grabbed the oh-shit handle again, nearly sliding across the seat into Tate, who’d braced himself against the door. The troll behind the wheel let out a maniacal laugh.
“Told you.” Yurik grunted, and all three passengers quickly
