Chapter 4 Element of Surprise
MISSION: OPERATION DUCK AND COVER
DATE: Sunny as hell. Not good for redheads.
OBJECTIVE: Secure aquatic cuteness for beloved’s enjoyment
MISSION PARAMETERS: Stealth approach. Swift capture. Minimal splashing. Maximum adorableness.
PERSONNEL: Agent Zoodle (that’s me) and Agent Fuzznuts (that’s Brumous)
STATUS: About to go sideways in ways even I couldn’t predict
Zane Cimmerian
I stretched out in the grass under the willow trees, their shade keeping the fang-rotted sun from burning my fang-rotted skin while I counted the ways a man could die of boredom.
Fishing ranked somewhere between watching paint dry and listening to Casimir lecture about equipment maintenance.
At least Seri was happy, her legs dangling over the edge of the wooden planks, fishing rod clutched in her hands like it was made of gold instead of carbon fiber, and that was enough to keep my ass planted right where it was. It didn’t hurt that she was cute as hell when she was excited.
“You’re holding it wrong,” Cas murmured, his hands hovering near Seri’s. “If you angle the rod more like— Yes, that’s it.”
I rolled my eyes so hard, I nearly strained something. For a lethal killing machine, my big brother turned into an awkward teenager around our beloved.
“Excellent form, blossom,” I called out, just to watch Cas’ jaw tick with annoyance. “You’re a natural fisherman. Or fisherwoman. Fisher-beloved?”
“Leave them alone, Z.” Koa, stretched out on the grass next to me with a book, didn’t even look up.
“I’m being supportive,” I protested, rolling onto my stomach and propping my chin on my hands. “Someone has to—”
“I think I felt something!” Seri’s excited whisper cut through my thoughts. She leaned forward, golden curls spilling over her shoulders as she peered into the water.
“Steady.” Cas sounded like he was diffusing a bomb instead of helping catch a fish that would undoubtedly be released right back into the water. “Don’t jerk the line.”
The reel spun, whirring softly as whatever was on the other end tested the tension.
“Probably another sunfish,” I muttered, but sat up to see.
The last few catches had been disappointingly small, but Seri had been delighted anyway, cooing over each tiny fish like it was a newborn baby before releasing it.
“It feels bigger,” she breathed, her cheeks pink. “Stronger at least!”
Cruor, she was beautiful when she smiled. All three of us were utterly wrecked by that smile, even Cas, who stood at her shoulder now like an anxious shadow. The protective instinct never really faded for any of us, not after finding her the way we had, battered and nearly dead on our doorstep…
Beside me, Brummy lifted his head from his paws, ears perking up, and I followed his line of sight to a group of ducks paddling toward our dock from the far side of the lake. Plump, glossy bodies bobbing on the water that now had two pairs of predators’ eyes locked upon them with laser focus.
A series of images flashed into my mind, not my own thoughts, but Brumous’. He sent me a mental picture of Seri, smiling at a lap full of feathers. She was petting chickens at her old home, before the rogues ate them.
Aha! Got it! She would love petting ducks!
I gave him a serious nod and began army-crawling to the edge of the dock where he joined me, tail wagging happily.
“Fuzz Squad, this is Alpha Fun.” My lips twitched as I drew closer to the water, raising one hand to shield my mouth like the covert-operations mastermind I was. “Do you copy?”
Brummy sent back a crystal-clear response, his blue eyes gleaming with purpose.
Duck. Seri happy. We win.
Now that he was getting proper nutrition and wasn’t being tortured by Arabesque, his communication skills had strengthened considerably. His vocabulary was still limited and he couldn’t speak aloud like other dires, but his enthusiasm more than made up for it.
“Just remember, Agent Fuzznuts, under NO circumstances alert alphas Sharp or Boom to mission objectives. They lack the vision and tactical spontaneity required for this delicate operation.”
Brummy sneezed, and I took that for agreement.
“Confirmed visual on priority target.” I lowered the imaginary comms unit.
The enemy contingent floated near the reeds.
Six mallards practicing formation swimming like a feathered fleet of destroyers.
“Rules of Engagement: No casualties, minimal feather disruption, and for night’s sake, don’t scare our princess! ”
Brumster chuffed, tail thumping the ground in a Morse code anyone could read: Let-me-chase-let-me-chase-let-me-chase.
“Listen here, Fuzznuts. This isn’t some backwoods squirrel hunt.
This is a dangerous, high-stakes mission.
There will be panic. There will be quacking.
And there will be glory.” My fingers automatically checked invisible gear.
Phantom grenade belt, pretend night-vision goggles, the whole nine yards. “Now move out.”
MISSION LOG: APPROACH — STEALTH MODE
The reeds whispered secrets as we advanced. Brum-Brum’s belly-crawl would’ve made a Navy SEAL weep, all twitching haunches and tail flags snapping like semaphore. I counted three duck sentries rotating watch. The alpha male had that look, the icy stare of a waterfowl who’d seen some shit.
Probably migrated past Jersey once.
“Hold position. The enemy is alert, Fuzznuts,” I breathed, affecting my best hard-bitten commander voice. “We must be swift, silent, and absolutely ruthless.”
His tail swished in the water behind us, creating ripples that spread across the surface.
“Tail control, agent! Basic stealth protocol!”
He shot me a slightly offended look, but his tail stilled. Then he sent me an image of himself launching into the flock like a wolf torpedo, feathers exploding everywhere.
“No, no, we wait.” I patted his head. “And remember the mission parameters. One quick grab, and we retreat with the package, not slaughter the entire flock. ”
I wasn’t entirely sure he understood the distinction.
Brummy sent me another image, this one of him sneaking through the reeds, pouncing like a lion on the savanna, and proudly presenting a duck to Seri, who was so overcome with joy, she sprouted golden light from her head like a saint in a Renaissance painting.
“Your imagination is getting out of hand, buddy,” I muttered.
Back at the dock, I heard Seri’s happy squeal as she caught another fish.
The sound made my heart do a weird flip-flop in my chest, like it always did.
Cas was probably still standing there like a statue, pretending he wasn’t melting inside, and Ko was likely giving her that soft smile he saved just for her.
And here I was, belly-deep in lake muck, plotting to kidnap a duck just to make her happy.
Worth it.
My fellow agent and I closed in on our unsuspecting prey, my slides long gone in the mud and my shirt and shorts probably a lost cause. Brummy was having the time of his life.
“How’s the water temperature?” Ko called and, for a heart-stopping moment, I thought he was talking to us. Then I heard Seri reply.
“Perfect! Not too cold at all. I might want to go swimming.”
Swimming? That meant Seri in a swimsuit! Maybe this mission could wait…
No. Focus. We’re committed now. No turning back.
“Remember,” I instructed Brummy, “we just need one duck. Don’t get greedy.”
He sent me a solemn image of himself holding a limp duck by the neck in his mouth, like a retriever with a freshly shot pheasant.
“That’s not exactly what I had in mind,” I said, slightly concerned. “Maybe I’ll handle the actual acquisition.”
From our new vantage point, I could see the dock clearly. Seri was sitting with her legs dangling in the water. Cas stood guard beside her, arms crossed over his chest, while Ko had returned to his book, although he kept glancing at her with heart eyes.
None of them were looking our way. Perfect.
Then the alpha drake, forever hereafter known as Commander Quack, whipped his head toward us.
“Bat’s bones,” I breathed. “We’ve been compromised, Fuzznuts.”
The duck let out a low, suspicious quack. Several of his compatriots turned to look our way.
“Stay down.” I tried to become one with the mud. “They can sense movement.”
The Brummeister showed me a picture of fire, maybe asking whether ducks had heat vision.
“No, but they’re crafty. Like tiny, feathered KGB agents.”
The ducks had drifted closer, almost as if they were daring us to make a move. Commander Quack continued to stare at us.
“The enemy grows wary, Fuzznuts. Recommend immediate action before they sound the alarm.”
The ducks paddled closer to the shore, putting us within optimal striking distance. It was now or never.
“On my mark.” I shifted into a crouch. “Three, two…”
I paused because Commander Quack had turned to stare directly at Cas, as if he knew something we didn’t. He quacked once, ominously.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
Sure enough, Cas, sensing avian hostility, noticed. Duck and dhampir locked eyes across the water. Neither blinked.
“Cruor, Brums! Cas just made an enemy for life!”
Brummy showed me a picture of the big duck sprouting fangs.
“Exactly, buddy. He’s going for world domination.”
Cas narrowed his eyes at the duck. His posture shifted almost imperceptibly, the subtle change that happened when he felt the presence of a threat.
Over the years, my brother had stared down demons, rogue vampires, and once an entire coven of Dark witches, but I’d never seen him engage in a staring contest with waterfowl before.
“Fuzznuts, change of plans.” I was unable to look away from the bizarre standoff. “Abort. That duck has murder in his eye.”
Duck. Seri happy. We win, Brum-Brum disagreed.
“I know, buddy, but—”
Too late.
Brumous, patience expired, went full Rambo.
MISSION LOG: ATTACK PHASE
TIME: T-minus zero seconds before everything went to hell
SITUATION: Critical failure of command structure
NOTE TO SELF: Next time, recruit a partner with an attention span longer than three seconds