Chapter 1
July 29, 1982
21:00
US Legion Base - Fort Grove
Broken Arrow, Oklahoma
Ice walked into the strategy room and sat down at the table. As usual, he was the first of their team to arrive for the pre-mission briefing. His squadmate Jax came in next, giving him a nod before he took a seat. The door opened again and Major Ortiz, the leader of their squad, arrived.
“Major,” he said in greeting.
“Ice.” She returned his greeting before sitting at the foot of the table.
The door opened one last time as Lieutenant Colonel Gibbs, their team’s executive commander, entered, accompanied by his aide. Ice, Ortiz, and Jax all rose and stood at attention until Gibbs nodded at them to be seated. With the colonel and his aide’s arrival, Ice expected the briefing for the upcoming mission to begin. But the aide didn’t begin his usual tasks of turning on the monitors and passing out mission briefs and both Ortiz and Gibbs remained relaxed in their seats.
It was Jax who asked the obvious question.
“What are we waiting for?”
Ortiz leaned back in her chair before answering.
“We’re waiting for the new member of our team. Their transport is running a few minutes behind schedule.”
At the major’s answer, Ice looked at her in surprise. “Why are we getting a new member? We don’t need one.”
“We do. Now that Grayson is retired, you need someone to watch your six,” Ortiz explained. “And it’ll be more efficient for you to have a partner.”
“Been efficient just fine on my own these past three months.”
“But you can’t watch your own back.”
Ice didn’t have anything to counter that. There were many situations where having someone to watch his back could help him stay alive. But he preferred working alone. And he didn’t want to deal with training a new guy to properly work alongside him. But knowing the major was right and respecting her decision, he bit back his annoyed growl and nodded instead.
The matter settled, Ortiz nodded back.
“His name is Corporal Dylan Mitchell.”
That name pulled up a recent memory in Ice’s mind. The soldier he’d spoken with the night of Grayson’s retirement party wore the name Mitchell on his uniform. Mitchell was a fairly common name, however. It was unlikely to be the same person.
“Shifter or human?” Jax asked.
“Shifter.”
“Another alpha?”
“No. An omega.”
Jax raised an eyebrow. “That’s a prize you’ve managed to nab for us.”
Omegas were often an amazing asset to have out in the field. They were fast and lethal. Their small size let them slip in where alphas and betas sometimes couldn’t. And heavens forbid an enemy hurt someone an omega considered as part of their pack. An omega protecting one of their own was vicious - borderline feral.
“Yes. We’re lucky to have him.”
“Let’s not be hasty on that assessment,” Ice said. “We’ll know if he’s a prize after we see how he does in the field.”
Ortiz smiled. “I’m sure he’ll do just fine. I helped train him a few years back. He was stellar then and I’m sure he’s only improved since.” She looked at her watch, then drummed her fingertips on the table in a sign of impatience.
A minute later, the door opened once more and a young solider walked in. Ice took in the new arrival. Black hair. Green eyes. And a familiar smile. Ice clenched his jaw in annoyance. It was him. The impertinent soldier from that night. Fuck.
After closing the door behind him, Mitchell saluted and greeted Colonel Gibbs. Ice was half surprised that he showed respect to an officer. After Gibbs returned his greeting, Mitchell saluted Ortiz next before walking over and clasping her hand in what looked to be a firm grip.
“Major Ortiz. Good to see you again, ma’am,” he greeted the major in a friendly voice.
“You as well. Let me introduce you to your new team. This is Captain Royce Anderson and Corporal Noah Jackson. Otherwise known as Ice and Jax. Boys, meet Corporal Dylan Mitchell.”
The corporal smiled at them both and gave a salute to Ice. “Call me Hazard.”
Behind his mask, Ice raised an eyebrow, mildly curious about the nickname. He didn’t voice his curiosity aloud however, not wanting to invite the man to share a story that he had no interest in hearing. “We’ve met,” he said cooly.
A frown of confusion creased Mitchell’s forehead as he tried to figure out how he knew him. When the memory hit, the frown cleared and his eyes went wide for a moment. He had the grace to look embarrassed, a hint of red appearing on the tops of his ears when he acknowledged their prior history — brief as it was.
“I remember our meeting, Captain Anderson. It’s nice to see you again, sir.”
“Mmmm.” Ice answered with a noncommittal hum.
“How was your ride in?” Ortiz asked.
“Uneventful. I could use some action after the long trip.”
“You’ll have plenty of it here. We’re briefing now for tonight’s mission.”
“Sounds good.”
Ice noted the eagerness to Hazard’s expression. The young soldier didn’t complain about being put straight to work or ask for a night’s respite after being transferred from his previous post. He respected that. While Mitchell walked around the table to take a seat and the aide began passing out mission briefs, Ice assessed their new team member.
The corporal wasn’t what he’d expected. Usually omegas were short, with petite, slender builds. Mitchell was smaller than the three alphas in the 448 — a whole head shorter than Ice — but he wasn’t that short. And his build wasn’t anywhere close to what you’d call slender.
This omega was solid, with thick thighs, wide shoulders, and a firm, broad chest that tapered down to a flat stomach and tight waist. Muscular arms made it clear that he put in good time in the gym. Mitchell wouldn’t be slipping into any small, tight spaces with his sturdy frame.
His ink black hair was buzzed close to his scalp. And the barest hint of a five o’clock shadow darkened his jaw — another difference from the omegas Ice usually saw with their smooth, bare cheeks. Of course, Ice didn’t care about any those non-typical traits. He only cared if Mitchell could do the job he’d been brought in to do.
An odd warmth started to tingle in Ice’s chest. Ice rubbed his knuckles over his breastbone. It was probably mild heartburn from the jalapenos the mess hall cooks had sprinkled in that evening’s dinner.
Still feeling annoyed, Ice opened the mission brief. He didn’t want a partner at all and he certainly didn’t want this one with his cheeky attitude. But Ortiz had brought Mitchell in, doing it in a way that left Ice little room for refusal. For tonight at least, he would have to work with him.
* * *
Hazard looked into the eyes of the man sitting across from him. He recognized those deep, dark eyes. They belonged to the officer he’d run into three months ago when he’d visited Fort Grove to speak with Major Ortiz. The big alpha hadn’t been wearing his wolf skull mask that night and he’d been in casual clothes so he hadn’t realized he’d been speaking with the infamous Captain Ice Anderson.
Going by the cold stare the captain was giving him now, he’d probably pissed him off with his flippant exit from their brief conversation. Fuck. Not the best way to start off with his new team. But, what was done was done. No point in dwelling on a minor misstep. He might not be off to a great start with the captain, but he already had a good rapport with Major Ortiz, the leader of the team.
He liked Ortiz. He’d first met her three years ago when she’d led an advanced training course. From what he remembered back in training, the tall brunette was smart, highly skilled, and laid-back when not in the field. Her light brown eyes were always calm and often friendly, a trait he admired in an alpha of her rank. It had been a surprise and an honor when the alpha had recruited him to join her squad.
His fellow corporal Jax was another alpha. He had smooth, mahogany brown skin and bright, copper brown eyes. He’d given off a good vibe during their introduction and seemed glad to have Hazard on the team. Hazard looked forward to getting to know him.
Jax was dressed in loose fitting Legion pullover shirt, drawstring pants, and slip-on footwear. It was standard uniform for soldiers who planned to shift during a mission. Ortiz was in the 448’s specialty black uniform. There was a dark green band on the collar and cuffs and a 448 patch sewn onto the right arm. Hazard wondered when he would receive his 448 kit to wear instead of his standard US Legion uniform. Major Ortiz would probably have him go through a few missions to earn it first.
Then there was Ice. He’d heard tales of the man. Everyone in the Legion had. The tales all said that he was big, bad, and deadly. A lone wolf with an unmatched kill count. And that he was rarely seen in public without the hard-shell wolf mask covering most of his face.
Hazard could verify that the big part of Ice’s reputation was accurate. The night they’d first met, the alpha had towered over him by more than a head, making him easily six foot four. Sitting across from him now made it clear that his muscular bulk was massive. He wondered how big Ice was when he shifted into his wolf form.
The alpha was wearing the infamous wolf’s skull mask. This one was painted pitch black, except for the sharp white teeth. Another part of the legend that was true. The night they’d met he must have caught him during one of the rare occasions he didn’t have it on. If Ice had been wearing it that night, he probably wouldn’t have been cheeky talking to him. Or maybe he would have.
As far as bad and deadly... Well, he’d find out if that was true soon enough. However, Hazard couldn’t lie to himself. Even before seeing Ice in action, Hazard was slightly intimidated by him.
The way the captain kept his face covered by a replica of a wolf’s skull gave off vibes that had the hairs on the back of Hazard’s neck rising in a primal warning. Tread lightly , his Instinct whispered. This one is dangerous . But Hazard was a dangerous man too. And being intimidated wouldn’t fly if they were going to work together.
Dark eyes that peered out from the eye sockets of his mask with cool detachment were the only parts of the alpha that Hazard could see. The rest of his body was covered with long sleeves, pants, boots, and gloves. All of it in black.
Other than his size and eyes, Hazard couldn’t determine any of Ice’s physical characteristics. He couldn’t even see Ice’s lashes or eyebrows thanks to the shadows cast by the eyeholes of the mask. And the balaclava he wore beneath the mask hid his hair, making it impossible to tell his hair color or skin tone. Was he tan like Hazard or lighter? Was he a redhead, blond, or a brunette? Hazard had no clue, but he wondered what made a man lock all of himself away like that.
When the corporal’s assistant flicked off the overhead lights and turned on the two large monitors set into the wall at the front of the room, Hazard shrugged off his thoughts on the mysterious Ice and gave his attention to the briefing that was beginning.
Gibbs rose from his seat at the head of the table. The lieutenant colonel was an older Caucasian man, human, with faded red hair cut short, and silvered battle scars on his hard face. He was dressed in a sharply pressed green officers’ uniform with the requisite gold bars displaying his rank.
“Corporal Mitchell. Welcome to the team,” Colonel Gibbs said in a crisp tone.
“Thank you, sir.”
“You’ve joined the 448,” the colonel continued. “An elite squad formed for one reason. To get shit done. Whenever we have a situation that needs a lightning fast, no holds barred response, the 448 is called in. I hope you’re ready for that responsibility.”
“I am, sir,” Hazard said firmly.
Colonel Gibbs moved on. “We have an important person from the shifter community who has been abducted by Vengeful Claw, a fanatical shifter cell,” the colonel began. A picture flashed up on the screen of a young Black woman with short brown hair. “Councilor Doucette, the councilor for the Blood Valley pack, contacted the Legion when her daughter Jessica Doucette was taken. Blood Valley territory covers this region so we got the call. Ms. Doucette was grabbed leaving her aerobics studio and is being held at an abandoned warehouse in Kansas City.”
The aide clicked a remote and the screen advanced to show a picture of a five-story brick building. Some of the windows were busted out, and the parking lot surrounding it was cracked and choked with weeds.
“Do we know why she was taken?” the major asked.
“No. The abductors left their calling card but thus far no demands. But because of who she is, we’re working on the assumption that there is a political motivation behind the abduction. Your job is to get in, rescue the hostage, and gather any intel you can on this group. If the leader is on site capture them if possible. But everyone has authorization to kill. The hostage is your main priority. Any questions?”
Not a sound came from the team. “Major Ortiz will take over from here.” The colonel closed his folder and sat down.
Ortiz rose and walked to the front of the room to stand next to one of the in-wall monitors.
“Intel has her on the fourth floor.” The screen changed to show blue prints of the building they’d be entering. Ortiz used a laser to point out the area where the hostage was being held. “When we approach, Ice will take out the exterior guards. Once we’re inside the premises, he and Hazard will secure the package. Her family uses a code word so they know it’s safe to go with someone they don’t know. Hers is tuxedo cat. Make sure you give it when you find her. Jax and I will sniff out the leader and any intel that might be on site.”
His mind already shifting into battle mode, Hazard listened intently while looking over the blue print on the screen.
“Everyone clear on their role?”
“As a bell, Major,” Jax answered for them all.
“Okay then. Let’s go rescue the princess.”