Seamus: Unconventional (BSC #31)

Prologue

Seamus

Colorado MCBadass medic room

Voices startle me but the heavy feeling in my mind isn’t clearing enough for me to understand. Maybe I’m dreaming. I can’t remember the last time I had a dream so this is new. The connection in my head and fur in my hands aren’t enough…

“No, you can’t come in. ‘ Sombra Oscura, Luz Blanca, ’ is all I heard. One of the dogs jumped on the bed so I ran out to get a doctor. You shouldn’t be in here. The Pres head guy said none of you would go in. Doc Harper and the head guys are the only members allowed.” The woman’s voice isn’t one I know.

Shadow stops moving, his muscles are coiled like he’s ready to pounce, but he’s waiting for an order. I relax my hand in his short fur, hearing his breathing return to normal alert and focused calm. My head is foggy and eyes aren’t opening. Something is definitely wrong here. That is not a voice I know, so it’s not a voice that should be saying Shadow and Light’s full names. Where the fuck am I and why am I here? The bigger question is where is Light? I don’t hear him breathing, my head isn’t clear enough to focus on tracking.

As if I cued him up, my other partner, Luz , or White Light in English, is located by a click of nails and his low steady growl. I knew he wouldn’t be far because he feels as close as Shadow but my brain still isn’t clear enough to get what the hell is happening here.

“You need to leave.” The woman’s voice takes on a menacing tone that says she isn’t playing.

“One of the dogs made a sound and you weren’t in there. This one isn’t letting anyone in. I think it was the other one. Nothing is beeping, is he okay?” The low, deep voice is calm and full of concern.

Footsteps moving this way fast have me on alert. Shadow’s breathing doesn’t even hitch and Light’s nails click moving closer to me, so I relax because they know the new person and whoever it is, is not a threat.

“Go ahead back to position, Nunez. Pres doesn’t want anyone fuckin’ with his memory or dogs. Harky is on his way with Alder or Asa. I’ve got him from here. He’s awake, sort of, or almost.”

My eyes blink furiously while it feels like I’m trying to pry them up, then finally open, fuzzily seeing the young voice that doesn’t stop moving toward me as a blur.

The voice clears with a few more blinks and his closer stance showing a kid with long hair that’s a little darker than my light brown. “Glad you’re awake. Harper is your doctor. She’s on her way but sent me to keep you calm. You’re calm.”

I smile at the logic and nod once, still blinking my eyes to try and focus them better.

“I’m Chris Blackhawk, VP of Colorado MC. Harper is Pres’ ol’ lady. Pres is ex-Green Beret, turned FBI, turned Badass. He said you’re military. He recognized your dogs. They’re not like Zeus and that whole enhanced group but they’re not normal either. That one has kept in physical contact with you even for X-rays. Alder didn’t want to do any other tests until you woke up.” He points to the big rusty lump leaning against me.

Too many names without clear connections has my head turn slowly to Shadow. I swallow hard and Chris reaches over the bed and moves the mask, neither dog reacts, which is weird as hell. Not that I want the kid missing fingers, he seems nice enough, but my partners trust him and I’ve never met this guy.

Shadow huffs at me. I don’t try for a shrug. Nothing feels quite right here.

“Steph, can you get some water?” Chris asks. VP is cordial, not a trait I’d think of for a biker with some clout.

“I figured it was next. Here you go.” I don’t see the Steph woman but identify her as the voice that woke me.

Chris turns then is moving a cup with a straw my way. “Thanks, Steph. Have the dogs been out?” Chris asks.

“The white one ran back in right when he talked. The other isn’t leaving with this guy’s eyes ready to open. He stayed with him for hours after the last time.” The woman kept track of my partners gets noted for later review.

Last time? The water feels good on my throat. “Last time?” The gravelly voice sounds odd to my ears. My hand moves to my neck, a piece of cloth is covering what feels deeply sore causing my eyes to snap to Chris, the very young VP of a biker Club. A bandana?

“You’ve been in a coma for a little over two months. You woke or looked like it two days ago but Teller said to give it a couple of days, I guess it’s time now. The dogs won’t leave your side and that one kept his head by your neck. Harper covered it when the bandage came off and now, I think they do it for the dogs. As I’ve said, we have enhanced military dogs but yours are different. They understand medical, computer and languages. That one likes the bandana and brings different ones in. Steph puts them on you.”

The deep breath I pull in causes an almost painful pressure filling my chest. “Tell me you didn’t enhance them.”

“No, Pres has a trusted guard on you at all times. The dogs even have a K-9 guard. They’ve taken to our dogs but don’t let people close to them. We’re good with that.”

I turn my head toward Shadow slowly but the dizzy feeling creeps in. “No injections? You and Light okay?” I ask in German, glad I remembered even with this foggy brain.

He pushes his nose into my hand and barks softly. It’s common for the Belgian Shepherd part of him, but barking is not common to either. Although vocal dogs, their barking is saved for commands, intimidation or answers they give quickly. Most answers to me directly are with our connected chip, thanks to the military asshole that believed I was owned by the military with the two puppies I bought in Brazil. My plan was to ship them to my uncle but he died before I was shipped out for our next mission. My war dog was reassigned and I was sent to a base overseas where I trained with Shadow and Light for missions. I thought it was great until I woke up in a base hospital that was not as clean as this one. I shake my head trying to clear the fog and memories. My partners are okay but dizzy takes away the celebration for that.

Brazilian comes out automatically. “How long?”

Two calendar pages move behind my eyes and a three shows. Two months and three days. I nod once and press my fingers down against his paw. “My chair?” I ask in Bengali following the protocol we used while in.

My eyes close with the first image of what looks like a bomb blast. I pull in another pain filled breath. The chip is working again or I’m clear enough to see now.

Chris starts explaining so my eyes go to him with a smaller window of dizzy this time. “I got it, Sombra . We were called to help a Club fight off what we thought was a Mexican biker attack on a small Club town in Texas. It was actually some form of military hunting you. Your dogs pulled you to the Club with a bunch of workers from your farm. They call you Scott but we didn’t find any ID on you. When Pres saw the dogs, he had Justice fly you here to the Colorado Club. He thinks they were attacking because of the military or jobs you did.”

I squeeze my eyes tight trying to remember and clear my vision. “My chair?” It’s the missing piece of me that should be seen anywhere I am.

“Blown up. The farm is gone. The Texas Club is taking care of the workers and has them planting fields there. You’ve been down for a while and they needed jobs.”

That’s a decent thing to do for my workers. The Badass Club is a good forty miles from where the farm was. I regretted moving there as soon as spring hit. Winter was nice, but spring was a precursor to the hell summer ended up being. Even my dogs hated the farm. My Malinois X partners had no problem no matter where we were sent, but long-term in the Texas summer was draining them. They were losing that little bounce and excitement our days always started with. The dream of fighting cartels like action movie characters was truly a dream and the stories that got us there had truth to them, but not enough to base a lifetime chained to dry, hot and hell like weather conditions. I grew up in an opposite universe. Rolling hills, plenty of rain and the much cooler climate were a taunting, probably exaggerated, memory that always reared during irrigation issues that needed a repair at fifteen hundred on one of the numerous record-breaking hottest days in history. Every day was a record-breaking hottest day in history.

Chris laughs on the side of me causing my eyes to snap to his again.

“I’m a reader. Texas isn’t an option anymore?” He isn’t hiding a thing here.

Pictures of me in this room hit my brain as if the dogs are sending it but I don’t feel the connection to the pictures like with our chip. It’s the young VP.My breath stops and eyes see him clear for the first time when his hand touches my arm. ‘Holy shit.’ I send seeing my partners focus on his hand.

He smiles wider. “Yeah, that about sums it up. We’re freaky, Native Indian and from the Princes of Prophecy in Rhode Island.” His words settle the partners down.

He looks about as Indian as I do. “You’re Indian?” My brain is still running too slow, he just said it.

He nods seriously. “Adopted into the Mohegans but, yeah, we all have Indian in us. Aiyana bridged the ancestors so we’re all one tribe now. I don’t think ancestry matters anymore. It never mattered to us but we’re young and didn’t grow up on a reservation.”

I get it. “Me either. What’s wrong with my throat and how can I get another chair?”

He smiles like I’m cracking jokes here. “Mucimi said they were looking for tracking or something in your neck. They left it an open wound figuring you were dying, but your dogs got you away and to the Club with your workers. The workers said the dogs took care of them and had secured three trucks and a supply truck.”

I smile, proud of the partners. “The dogs aren’t dogs, they are my partners. The emergency trucks were for them to make it back to Mexico or Central America. They could sell the supplies or use them while finding another job. It’s legal and I had the papers for them. They don’t need it, but one form stops them from being deported. They all have tribal community cards so they don’t need more but local cops and nitpickers don’t understand Native.”

His eyes watch mine in a weird way. “They have permanent visas or something close to it now. Whatever the probation was could have been a problem for them, Native or not. Kaleb said the visa means they’re not tracked or given shit if they’re stopped because it has some Native form number listed on it. Hell, even visas can be a problem today, but they’ll be safe in the Badass towns. The SAA in Texas said they’re happy but ask about you daily.”

I nod once. “They have visas? We just started the paperwork for the US forms. They said it would take a year at the least.”

“We did all the background checks and sent lawyers with the paperwork to four immigration judges waiting for an opening. It took two days but we got in one and the judge signed them all. You had work records, Native affiliations and all the forms filled out. Verifying your work was easy. The judge asked for Badass to help clear his docket but Cort has been busy.”

“You help with courts?”

He laughs. “No or yes, but not usually immigration shit. Our Boss had to get lawyers explaining why they even needed the visa or whatever fix. It’s a stupid reason and waste of money when they’re already legal. There is so much going on, I don’t think it’s a Badass priority right now. Educating the government isn’t high on his list. It doesn’t matter now but Pres called Kaleb for your workers. He knew that dog from some base he visited last year for an Op Badass was involved in but not your name.”

I nod getting it and let the dog thing slide. “I’ll have to thank him. My workers are good people and technically, they can move throughout American countries but some of their family were already picked up by ICE agents. They’re Native but only Americans think Native American only pertains to the US. They never have a problem moving through Mexico or down through Central America with their tribal or community ID. US Border Patrol were breathing down our necks.”

His gleaming eyes and nodding head stops me. “We had this whole debate about America in school when I was like twelve. I was on the right side so pulling information was easy for me. We just used laws and treaties. The kids on the US only side were scrambling. It’s tough to fight what’s common knowledge but they did okay by jumping to a defense stance. It did teach us that entitlement leads to so much more than attitude. Canada, Greenland, Mexico, parts of the Caribbean and all of Central and South America being “America” is overlooked. South America has twelve different countries. Only US Americans believe our one country with fifty small states is more special than all the other parts of America that dwarf our size.”

I smile at the young VP with a better education than I’ve seen from US Americans in the military. Being an American raised by my uncle in Scotland, after my parents died, gives me a little different view of the US than most US citizens. “We did come out of the global pandemic faster and stronger than any other nation, Americas included.” I smile at the little quip.

He nods seriously, looking older than a second ago. Chris has some tough life lived under his belt. “We did and I know Badass is honored to be at the top of that list but we have a whole country that worked, sacrificed and retrained to get us to that globally recognized spot. It’s not every day you get envy of the world recognition. The Little Brothers were proud and had screenshots of the articles…” he chuckles, “some were Google shots from other countries that caused a new multi-language interest. They’re funny kids.”

I nod. “So, the chair?” Not having a way out makes me feel trapped.

Chris points to the corner and raises the bed up. What looks like a black standard wheelchair is there. Black isn’t a normal color for the metal on chairs but I guess in Badass it is. It relieves me to see it.

“Harper is on her way. She was at Bravo so it’s taking a minute. Do you need to get up?”

I’m not telling him my ridiculous psychological need for a way out when I don’t need a way out right now. I’ve got nowhere to go and no idea what’s wrong with me, so I have no idea what our new normal is or will be. “No, but it’s part of me and was set up for me and the partners.”

“Alder is coming so you can ask him about options for a chair. He could make you a skeleton so you can walk instead of ride. Ask Alder about chairs, medical or computer shit. The dog thing may be something Harky knows. I’m not a handler but he rescues all kinds of dogs now. The CIA was growing them again. You knew about injections, which is more than me, so ask Harky about dog shit.”

I smile at that too. ‘Dog shit’ isn’t a conversation I’m having with anyone, but I’ll ask about parts to build what I need for the chair. I’m never walking again but need those modifications for my partners and my own security. “I’ll ask Alder and Harky. The partners are chipped to me. The CIA is all screwed up. The experiment was listed as too dangerous but Luz found two more that were chipped. They were only with us for a week before the bikers came.”

His head is shaking like he doesn’t like that. “Not bikers, they were military but the Flight Lead that transported you here said MERCS.”

That makes more sense. “Ex-military. Yeah, it was so fast and I was focused on the workers. I sent Shadow to lead the women to the tunnel with the trucks but they were dropping from the sky before he got back.”

“Before you go on. Cort, Pres, Harky and Alder will be here soon. You’re gonna have to tell them this whole thing. Cort asks a million questions so it’s going to get old pretty fuckin’ quick. I can read you. If you need to let it go, I’m listening, but if you’re just telling the how, know I’m not the last one on that stop.”

The chuckle that bubbles up from my chest surprises me and my hand reaches for the cup of water. Sore throat is right, it’s not a dying pain but is uncomfortable. “Thanks. I’ll wait until they’re all here so I’m not saying it fifty times.” The water feels good on my throat.

“Good. Mucimi was here and got the dog’s side from them, he’s my brother, one of the freakier freaks and the Prophet for Justice and Teller.”

“I’m not asking because reader seems like enough.” I’ve heard of the seer Indians so I figure ‘reader’ is like that.

Shadow makes a disgusted sound putting question marks in our link. I turn toward him. “They’re enhanced K-9s, you should have asked them or the prophet guy.”

Light makes a huff sound making our young VP laugh. “Can they talk to the dogs here?”

Good question. “I don’t know. Shadow and Light have never been enhanced. The chip is it. We learned that the consequences of groups sharing and thinking together are dangerous in ways that weren’t planned for. Small groups, when it’s a mission, worked well but larger groups headed by Leads with unstable, or malicious intent can be devastating. CIA had both and the program was shut down, or the one we were in was, but Light brought me two chipped K-9. I never expected it, but he communicated with them and they linked in to me within a day.”

His head turns to the side. “Did they lead the attackers right to you?”

I look at Shadow and see him through the chip connection hiding the two. “No, Shadow hid them. They’re still out there.”I see Shadow’s map and shake my head trying to clear the dizzy.

“No, they have our location. They weren’t enhanced, I checked myself. They’ll be here soon if they aren’t here now.” I stop, hearing movement outside the door. I’m tired but need to keep my partners safe and get a chair. If I need to leave quickly, I don't have time for my partners to secure me a second chair for us to modify. They’re good at parts I need but the chair would be noticeable to too many without our tunnel cover. I wonder if they have tunnel cover here. I shake my head clearing it with no dizzy sensation this time. I’m not clear enough and recognize the oddball thinking going on in my head. Noise in the hall and the partners alert means I don’t have to think about wool gathering when I’m obviously not up for even wool plucking. Do you pluck wool or clip it? I never did either.

Chris is up and moving. “Pres, Cort. He’s tired, a little unfocused but awake. A chair modified for him and his dog partners is a concern for him. He’s chipped to them, but I don’t get what that means. The dogs communicate with him like on a hologram board in his brain. I didn’t get a name but it’s not Scott and he has no accent.” The young VP waves his hand back like he’s granting them access. My partners aren’t reacting other than the alert focus so I follow their lead for two seconds.

I’m shocked. “Graywolf, I’m honored.”

The colonel smiles looking relieved. “Yeah. Where do I know you from?”

I hold my smile noticing the giant of a man holding an albino kid on his back. “I’m not sure you do, I was on base in Kuwait for a few months, you were pointed out for me with a classified SEAL.”

He points at Shadow. “ Sombra is Malinois X, Belgian Malinois, King Shepherd and Rottweiler that was on base with the white dog a little over a year ago? I was there for a day.”

I nod surprised he’d remember but he’s trained to remember. He was in my history at boot camp as a national hero. “Dark Shadow and White Light. I call them Shadow and Light or Luz and Sombra . Light is Malinois X, King Shepherd and white Malamute. They’re partners not just dogs.”

He nods. “You weren’t on a team?”