Read Epic: Book 02 - Outlaw Trigger for Free Online

smile broadened. “And we are free to drink.”
    Torokin allowed his gaze to shift to Archer. He was in a conversation with Judges Malcolm Blake and Carol June. It looked pleasant—exactly how all Archer’s conversations looked. “Have you spoken with Richard?”
    “ Yes, but he turned us down.”
    Torokin shot him a look. “Are you serious?”
    “ He said he must call his family tonight. He has not talked to them for some time.”
    “ Family is so inconvenient.”
    “ I know.”
    Torokin sighed and rose from his chair. “Then it is only the two of us, I suppose.”
    “ Yes. So it seems.”
    “ Is there anyone here that you still want to talk to?”
    Grinkov shook his head. “We can leave whenever you want.”
    “ Let’s go, then. I’ve had enough for one night.”
    “ Me too.”

    No one bid farewell to Torokin and Grinkov as they trekked out of the banquet hall and into the corridors of EDEN Command. But that suited them just fine.
    There was no one to whom they wanted to say goodbye, anyway.

4

    Monday, August 1 st , 0011 NE
    1720 hours

    Novosibirsk, Russia

    Scott growled as a left hook smacked against the tip of his chin. His mouthpiece shook loose from his teeth. He stepped back and resituated it. “Lucky shot,” he mumbled through the rubber.
    “ Like hell, tha’ was lucky!” Becan said, removing his own mouthpiece and holding it. “Tha’s called a good stick!”
    “ Then how come that’s the first one you’ve landed?”
    ”’ Cos I’m bein’ polite.”
    “ Yeah, right.”
    Sparring together had become Scott and Becan’s new custom. On sporadic days, they would find time to escape to the gymnasium together, where they would exercise in one-on-one bouts. They made sure never to stick to a set schedule. They already had their fair share of those.
    Becan slipped his mouthpiece back into place. “All righ’ then, dope. Millie up!”
    Scott adjusted his headgear and bounced.
    Then Becan struck. The move was a stutter-stepped hook, similar to the one he’d just landed. But the Irishman never struck the same way twice in a row. There’d be something different. And there was. The moment Scott moved to block the attack, Becan skidded and twirled back around. He sent a spinning hook kick to Scott’s face.
    But Scott was ready.
    He leaned back and tap-blocked Becan’s foot. He knew better than to actually grab it—that was a lesson he’d learned the hard way more than once. The Irishman had the nasty ability to turn anything into pivot point for follow-up attack. But not this time. As soon as Becan’s momentum was jarred to a stop, Scott slid to the ground and swept the Irishman’s feet. Becan toppled flat on his back.
    “ Veck!”
    Scott waited for Becan to stand. “You all right? That was a pretty nasty fall you took there.” Scott grinned as the Irishman scowled.
    There was only one rule that Scott and Becan abided by while they fought. Everything required some form of smack-talk. It was a mixture of lighthearted taunting and genuine competitiveness, but it was never taken to heart.
    “ Nasty fall this ,” Becan said. He dashed forward with a fierce leg thrust, and as soon as Scott parried it, he struck with an aggressive right hook.
    One that was snagged in mid-air.
    “ Veck, Remmy, no!”
    But it was too late. Scott’s fingers were already coiled around Becan’s wrist, and with a instinctive application of pressure, electricity surged through the Irishman’s spine. Scott flicked the wrist, and Becan cut a flip onto the floor. For the second time, he landed flat on his back.
    “ Tha’s bollocks!” Becan said with a groan. “Yeh can’t use the Dostoevsky Special !”
    Scott laughed and took out his mouthpiece. “What’s that rule again?”
    “ If I can’t stop it, yeh can’t bloody use it!”
    “ Right, that was it. I’d forgotten.”
    “ Bleedin’ righ’ yeh forgot,” Becan said, as Scott assisted him up. “ I want some private Nightman sparrin’