Avenger

Excerpt From: Avenger

Angel Carter couldn’t believe his bad luck. It was supposed to be an easy undercover job. But he should have known by now that nothing in his life was ever easy.

"Buckle up, we’re about to crash." Angel glanced at Frank Morgan—his inside man on the deep undercover job had gone all to hell. Frank looked rough. His stubble had stubble and there were circles under his eyes. His short dark hair sticking up every which way and the white of the bandage on his side stood out against his skin. Angel hadn’t put a shirt on Frank. Angel licked his lips and he should’ve been ashamed of himself for being turned on when it appeared as if Frank was passed out from lack of blood.

He wasn’t sure if Frank had even heard him, the man had been loopy from the drugs. Getting shot would fuck anyone up. Angel didn’t know how he felt about Frank getting injured or why he felt the need to run when he should have stayed and helped his brother, Alphonse, but every instinct had screamed at him to get Frank and get off the planet. Now they were about to both go down in a hail of metal and fire. If the crash didn’t kill them, the re-entry into Earth just might.

But he was out of options. He was going to the one place he should be safe. Earth had been abandoned for decades after it had almost been destroyed. Reports showed it was liveable again, but the Alliance was keeping it under wraps for now. They wanted to get hard data before letting people re-inhabit the place.

He hoped to hell the reports were right because in T-Minus twenty minutes he was going to find out, first-hand, just how good the air quality was. Angel leaned over and strapped Frank in, taking a moment to caress his cheek. Damn this attraction he had to Frank. It was going to get them both killed—if the ship didn’t kill them first.

"Erik…where…what…?" Frank winced.

Angel wanted to apologise, but really…what could he say? It wasn’t his fault Frank had been involved in a lot of bad shit that had come back to bite him on the ass.

"Frank, you shouldn’t call me that."

And he shouldn’t have said that. Frank knew Angel was undercover, but not his real name, and now there would be questions. He should have just left it alone. But no—they might die and he didn’t want to lie. Damn it. His timing sucked, but he had a strong pull towards the criminal and he wanted him something fierce.

"Why? It’s your name." Frank blinked at him—he still seemed a bit out of it.

"Not really."

Shit, shit, shit. Shut up, man!

"Huh?" Now Frank looked confused on top of being hurt.

"I’ll explain later." Angel tried to wave it off, but he’d got to know Frank somewhat during the investigation and the man wasn’t going to give up.

"Just explain now." Frank bit down on his lip as the ship hit a bad run of turbulence.

They were going down fast. The outer shields were burning as they entered the atmosphere. Out of his peripheral vision he could see a blue glow—flames coming from somewhere. It didn’t look good. He had to switch to manual. The computer shut down—he wasn’t sure if that was from the heat inside or if it’d been hit.

"My full name is Angel Erik Carter. You knew I was undercover. I try to stick as close to my name as possible. I used Erik Angel so people still call me Angel—well, except you. Makes it easier. Of course, now you know my last name and you can’t say anything. Not yet. There are too many—"

Shit, Frank had passed out. His head listed to the side. Frank needed help and Angel wasn’t sure he’d be able to do much good with only basic medical skills. Fuck. Frank should be in a base hospital. Angel’s head was all screwed up. He needed to call Alphonse or his dad. Someone had to be able to help him.

The ship began to beep at him. Angel needed to get his head back into the game before the ship was completely wrecked. If the trajectory was just right the craft would be salvageable. A landing in a body of water might work if his maps on board were up to date. Angel always fell behind in getting his ship upgraded and not much of Earth’s terrain was known anymore, at least not by him. Their scientists hadn’t been out there for a really long time as far as Angel was aware. Of course, science wasn’t his forte.

Angel took a quick glance at his passenger. Was Frank getting pale, and was that blood seeping out of the bandage? Landing on an unpopulated planet with a man who could be dying, he’d been in worse situations, right? He could do this. Double damn.

The ship shook so badly Angel feared it would fall apart. Land was in view and there wasn’t a body of water in sight. Of course not. That would’ve made things easier for him. Angel pushed a couple of buttons and reversed thrusters, engaging his emergency landing gear. The Avenger made a god-awful screeching sound. Angel put up a quick prayer as the ship slammed into the ground. He jerked forward, his safety harness biting into his neck. His head hit the console and bounced back against his seat. He blinked as something warm and sticky slid down his face.

He used a hand to wipe it off. Blood. Just what he needed. What else could go wrong? Angel took a moment to collect his thoughts and catalogue any injuries he might have. He wasn’t feeling so hot and his head was spinning from the blow, but that seemed to be the extent of the damage to his person. Angel fumbled with his buckle but couldn’t seem to undo it—his hands kept slipping. He wiped them on his jeans.

An alarm buzzed through the ship. That should have happened sooner—like, on impact. His ship was fucked. Damn it. Smoke was starting to fill the bay. He needed to get up and see how Frank was.

"Come out with your hands up."

Well, fuck.