Chapter Twenty
Tuesday
brICK HAD to admit he was impressed.
“How in the hell did Duke lay his hands on a C-17? We’re talking top of the line cargo aircraft.” The belly of the steel beast held the troop of thirty or so men and women, plus the trucks and trailers that housed the medical equipment, night-vision goggles, food, rifles, tents, water…. Everything they’d need for the mission.
“I told him to call in every favor he was owed. Looks as if he did just that.” Horvan sniffed. “Why does your bag smell like Aric?”
Brick smiled as he stroked a hand over his duffel. “He packed one of his shirts to remind me why I’m doing this.”
Horvan returned the smile. “Okay, that’s kinda cute, but seriously?” He wrinkled his nose. “He must’ve worn that thing for days.” The plane hit turbulence, and he tapped his earpiece. “Is this gonna last long? … Okay.” Horvan shook his head. “Pilot says we’ll be out of it soon.”
The sound of retching filled the air.
“Wizbang, you forgot to take your Dramamine again, didn’t you?” Crank yelled. “Fuck, you do this every time.”
“And you know I fucking hate it when you call me that, Crank. What’s wrong with Wizbowski? Too many syllables for ya?” More retching followed.
Across from Brick, Saul passed a bag along the line of soldiers. “Here, give this to him.”
Brick snickered. “Some of the best fighters I know are in this team, but they can’t fight a queasy stomach.” Another retching sound met his ears, only this was quieter—and closer to him.
Crank glanced around, frowning. “Who’s throwing up now?”
“No idea.” Brick snorted. “It sure wasn’t me. Got the constitution of an ox.”
“You mean a polar bear, right?” Horvan said with a smirk.
Crank got up and lurched across to them. “Okay, this is weird. The sound came from over here.” He cocked his head, listening.
It happened again.
“I heard it this time.” Horvan frowned. “Except it seems to be coming from your duffel, Brick.”
Crank arched his eyebrows. “It seems your luggage doesn’t like air travel. Better give it a Dramamine too.”
Brick stared at the kit bag, a suspicion dawning. “Oh my God, he didn’t.” He loosened the straps and the cord and peered inside—to find a pair of beautiful gray eyes staring back up at him. The barf on his striped fur took away some of the cuteness and provided Brick with a reminder of why he was angry. “You little—” He reached into the bag, lifted out the tabby kitty, and held him up, Aric’s front legs splayed and stiff, his tail down.
“Who’s that, Brick? Your emotional support animal?” Dex hollered, chuckling.
Eve glared at him. “Shut up. That’s his mate.”
Horvan peered into the bag. “Hey, at least he threw up over his shirt.”
Brick gave Aric a hard stare. You are in so much trouble.
Yeah, I got that part. Even his whiskers appeared dejected.
Now I know why you asked me to keep in mind that I love you. ‘It’ll come in handy later.’ You were planning this all along. How did you breathe in there?
Check the bottom of the bag. You might find a few… slits. Aric flexed his claws. And did you really expect me to stay at home? Dogs follow instructions—cats don’t give a shit. He barfed again.
“Great.” Brick placed Aric on his lap, stroking a hand over the silky fur and sighing. I’ve got you.
Horvan handed Brick a wipe. “When we land, we’ll find something for him to wear. Unless he packed more than one shirt in your bag, and I think you’d have noticed that.” His eyes twinkled. “Let’s face it. He’d be swimming in your fatigues.”
A tremor rippled through Aric, and Brick gave him a mock glare.
It isn’t that funny. And don’t be too keen to shift. Just because you’re my mate doesn’t mean I’m not gonna put you over my knee.
Is that meant to scare me? Bring it on, big guy.
Brick fucking loved his feisty little mate, and although he’d never admit it, Aric had shown a lot of balls sneaking into his duffel.
Let this be a lesson to me. Never underestimate the kitty.
HASHTAG ADMIRED Eve’s cool. She appeared completely unruffled. If anything, she seemed bored.
That’s because I am. Can’t wait to get off this thing and see some action.
Roadkill snickered. You and me both. He gave Hashtag a warm glance. And you’ll be watching over us from Operations, a kind of muscular guardian angel.
Eve gave his hand a surreptitious squeeze. I know it’s not what you wanted, but—
Hey, it’s fine. Roadkill’s right. Hashtag didn’t want to think about being parted from them. He gazed at the team around him, some asleep, others reading, the rest talking in low voices. Then he noticed Doc Tranter’s furrowed brow. The doc sat alone, hands clasped over his stomach. I bet he makes an impressive elephant.
Eve blinked. Really? African or Indian?
How would I know that?
She smiled. By the shape of his ears.
Then I wouldn’t know, because no one’s ever seen him shift.
Eve gazed thoughtfully at him. He has the appearance of someone in a quandary.
Hashtag had had the same thought. Think I’ll go keep him company.
She smiled. You’re a good man.
He left his place and wobbled across to the other side of the plane. “Hey, Doc. Can I join you?”
“Of course.”
Hashtag dropped into the empty seat next to him. “I thought you said something about retiring, last time we spoke.”
“I’ll retire when we’ve done something about the Gerans. And when we’ve shut down these infernal camps and schools.” Doc’s face darkened.
He huffed. “And how long is that gonna take?”
“It’s not something we can achieve quickly, that’s certain, but even making a serious dent would be a good start. Right now it feels as if we’ve barely scratched the surface. I have to say, I’m worried what we’re going to find at this camp.”
Hashtag frowned. “Can’t be worse than the last one. And that was only a few months ago.”
“Sure, and since then we’ve discovered what the Gerans can do when they really put their minds to it.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re here.” He peered at Doc. “You were friends with Dellan’s dad, Jake, weren’t you?”
Doc smiled. “Yes.”
Something in that smile….
Hashtag leaned in. “So I guess the question is are you here for us—or for him?”
Doc turned to face him. “An astute question indeed. And to answer it, I’m here in my usual capacity, to patch up any of our troops who need it, but I’m also here because there are going to be a lot of shifters who will need medical—and psychiatric—help.”
He blinked. “Psychiatric?”
Doc arched his eyebrows. “Think about it. A shifter is given a drug—without their consent—forced to shift, again without their consent, then forced to breed. There’s another word for that, isn’t there?”
Hashtag sighed. “Yeah, rape.”
“Exactly. So how do you think all these shifters feel when they produce offspring who are then taken from them to be raised by adoptive parents and sent to schools to be indoctrinated? And let’s not forget about the men.”
On the other side of the plane, Dex snorted. “What do they have to complain about? All they did was take advantage of an opportunity to make little tigers, lions, panthers, whatever. And think of the positives. No child support.”
Doc stilled, and Hashtag recoiled at the fury blazing in those usually cool eyes.
“Are you for fucking real , soldier?” he barked, and there was steel in his voice.
Dex froze, his eyes wide. “Sir?”
“How do you have the unmitigated fucking nerve to make forced mating sound like a good thing? Because from where I’m sitting, it’s so far beyond awful, they’d need to invent a new word for it. Do you think they had any say in what happened to them? Who’s to say any of them wanted to be fathers? Especially fathers to offspring that they’d probably never see.”
Saul let out a growl. “It’s a fucking good thing you’re a better fighter than a thinker, Dex. Next time, put your brain into gear before you put your mouth into action. Otherwise, your section leader is gonna tear you a new one.”
“Section leader?”
Saul gave him a cool smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yes. Duncan’s in charge of your section. Got a problem with that?”
Dex’s face underwent a swift change, and he stiffened. “No, sir.” He coughed, then buried himself in his book.
Hashtag placed his hand on Doc’s arm. “You okay?”
Doc swallowed. “Sorry. I just saw red.”
“Hey, no apology needed, Doc,” Saul told him. “You did good.”
Dellan leaned forward in his seat next to Horvan. “Doc’s right, though. There are going to be a lot of questions once this is over.”
“But how can we bring all this to an end?” Eve remonstrated.
Horvan gave her an inquiring glance. “Having problems seeing the long-term picture, Eve?”
She swallowed. “Yes, sir. We’re facing all these camps, the schools…. If we’re going to make any changes, then as a wise man once said to me, we shouldn’t be afraid to fight dirty.”
“We’re about to get ourselves a VIP,” Saul said. “A Very Important Prisoner.”
Crank snorted. “I was thinking a Vastly Insufferable Prick, but hey, I can go with your version.”
Horvan tapped his earpiece. “Copy that.” He stood. “Okay, folks, your attention, please. We’re about to land at Estcourt Station Airport, which is also the northern-most airport in Maine and less than a thousand feet from the Canadian border. We’re gonna set up camp in the forest south of the airstrip. Some of you will be joining Team B, led by Johan Deerling, one of Aelryn’s men. Once we get to the site of our camp, I want everything running like clockwork, you got that?”
There was a chorus of “Sir, yes, sir!”
“More troops and medics will meet us at the airport. Now just because we have a day or two before we see action, that does not mean you’re all on vacation.”
Laughter greeted his words. “Aw, shit. And I was gonna work on my tan,” Crank quipped. He smirked at Brick. “I guess you’ll still be able to.”
Brick frowned. “Fuck that. I have a kitty to deal with.”
Horvan scanned the faces of his men. “Study the map of the compound. Work in your teams. Every one of you has a specific job to perform. No one is redundant.” He grinned. “And if you don’t pull your weight, Brick’s mate will leave a little gift in your boots.”
Hashtag held his hand out to Aric, but stopped halfway. “Is it okay if I pet the kitty—I mean, Aric?”
Horvan chuckled. “Wise move, asking first. Aric’s his mate, after all, and we tend to maim first and ask questions later if anyone touches our mates. That goes for Aric, too.”
Brick didn’t answer right away, and then he smiled. “I think it’s okay just this once. Aric says it’s fine too.”
Hashtag scritched Aric behind his ears. “Hey, pretty kitty. You wouldn’t shit in my shoes, would ya?”
Brick chuckled. “He says that depends on whether you brought a bag of Temptations with you.”
Hashtag gaped. “Hey, kitty treats don’t feature on my packing list.”
Dellan grinned. “You’ll know better next time.”
Brick scowled. “There isn’t gonna be a next time.” He bent over. “You hear that, kitty cat?”
Aric rolled onto his back, presenting a very fluffy tummy.
Brick laughed. “Nice try. You’re not forgiven yet.”
Hashtag made his way back to Eve and Roadkill. “I suppose I ought to know what counts as a treat for gorillas.”
She smiled. “Bring me a bowl of strawberries in bed and you’ll be on the right track. Throw in some bamboo shoots and you’re golden.” She took his hand in hers. “You’re not going to worry about me, are you? We talked about this.”
He sighed. “Last time I was on a mission, I concentrated on getting the job done and going home at the end of it all. Now?” He gazed at Eve and Roadkill. “I’ll do my best. Can’t promise more than that.”
If we weren’t on this plane right now, I’d kiss you so fucking hard. Roadkill’s intense stare sent heat curling through him.
That’s probably a good thing. PDAs in front of this crew? Yeah, no.
Then the plane banked left, and Hashtag straightened.
Time to switch into fighter mode.
IF THERE was one thing Horvan admired about his team, it was their ability to hit the ground running, even before the sun had risen. Less than five minutes after reaching the site for the camp, the men got busy erecting tents in the predawn light, sorting out the portable generators and water supply and establishing a perimeter. The command tent was up in less than half an hour.
Hashtag had a quiet moment with Eve and Roadkill before he and about eight others went off in a truck, heading for the meeting point at Allagash with Johan and his team, about an hour and a half away. His job would be to get the drones airborne so they could get their first real-time look at the camp.
Horvan sent a coded message to Milo to let him know they were on the ground, while Doc did a briefing with the team of medics.
And now we wait.
Dellan entered the command tent, carrying a flask. “Flynn’s in charge of food. He said you’d need this.”
Horvan chuckled. “That man knows me too well.” He unscrewed the cap and poured himself a cup of strong coffee. He sniffed. “Damn, that smells good.”
“Saul said we’re sending drones to look at the camp. Is that safe? Won’t they hear them?”
Horvan sipped his coffee. “Drones usually make a distinctive buzzing or whirring noise, like an electric motor or a swarm of bees. But once they climb above a hundred feet from the ground, it’s much less noticeable—for human ears, that is. That’s why we’re gonna have them cruise at a height of about twenty thousand feet. They’ll appear like a speck in the sky. And Hashtag has orders to take his photos and be out of there as fast as he can.”
Brick came into the tent. “Aric’s asleep. We found him some fatigues, although it was tough with this crowd. We don’t have any guys his size. Thank God for Eve and her safety pins. At least he’s not gonna be performing any impromptu strip shows.” His face clouded. “H, I’m sorry. I had no idea he—”
“Forget it. I know how these things go. Remember the raid on the Bozeman camp? When I discovered my mates had followed us?”
Dellan smiled. “And I also recall how useful we were. Aric will prove useful too, I’m sure of it.”
Brick glanced toward the tent flap. “I’m hoping to hear Seth’s thoughts. We must be close enough by now.”
Horvan patted his arm. “We’re going to get him out of there soon enough. Then you can hear his voice out loud.” He smiled. “You get to hold him too.”
Horvan’s phone buzzed, and he glanced at the screen. It was from Milo.
Can we talk?
He clicked on Call. “Are you safe to talk?”
“For the moment. I don’t have any more news about Fielding’s arrival.”
“Then why are you calling?” Horvan’s bare arms erupted into a carpet of goose bumps, and it had nothing to do with the chill morning air.
Something’s wrong.
“Horvan, don’t ask me how, but… they know you’re coming.”