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Authors: Linda O. Johnston

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BOOK: Loyal Wolf
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They were semiautomatic rifles, M-16s, like the military used, and there were a lot of them.

He wondered if they might even have been stolen from the military. He'd have to check.

Could they be used for hunting? Maybe. But why so many? And why were they hidden?

A couple of boxes also held handguns, Berettas and SIG Sauers.

Why would ordinary hunters need them?

Answer? They wouldn't.

Plus, he did, in fact, find some crates that were sealed, and yet he smelled the plastic scent that told him they contained C-4.

Jock had found what he needed. Maybe not all of the guns he'd found were illegal, but he'd no doubt that their collection was not for any law-abiding, neutral purpose.

And now it was time to go back to playing his role of supporting the anti-government position of these supposed sportsmen.

He cautiously edged his way back out of this shed, silently applauding Kathlene.

By contacting Alpha Force, she may have saved a lot of lives.

* * *

It was time now to head to the Clifford County Building. According to Myra, the meeting was scheduled to begin in about half an hour.

“Are you ready?” Kathlene asked. Myra had changed into a dark suit and white blouse, one that looked even more professional than the charcoal outfit she had worn to the last meeting. Kathlene wasn't sure whether Myra's attitude had shaved ten years off her appearance or if the makeup she had applied, along with her determined expression, had done the job, but at least for now Myra looked ready to face anything.

“I sure am,” Myra responded.

“Then let's go.”

Once again Myra drove, since Kathlene had left her car at her place.

“So tell me what the agenda is today,” Kathlene said, although she had a pretty good idea.

“About the same as last time. We'll be talking about those gun-control laws that were passed in closed chambers after the last meeting. There've been some complaints, some challenges to the point of order, that claim statutes passed in private, without the opportunity of citizen comment and discussion, are not valid. Our county counsel will be talking about that, disputing it, but even so, we on the commission have decided to take that vote again. In front of everyone. After allowing the discussion, including any threats, tacit or explicit.”

“Really?” Kathlene wished now that she was on duty that day. She would have much preferred being in uniform, acting officially to help control whatever issues were bound to come up with those discussions...like the threats. “Are you all nuts?”

Myra laughed. “No, but this is important around here—especially with that element that's come to town that argues against everything. They don't really have a say—but they were undoubtedly involved in the threats against me and the others. I appreciate your letting me stay with you before while I felt discombobulated, but I'm fine now. They can't hurt me—even if they wound or kill me.”

“What?”

“I mean, it's more hurtful to me to cower and give in. And I think I'm not the only commissioner who feels that way. Wendy's said the same thing. Besides, Tommy X will be there officially. So will the sheriff himself, I've been promised.”

“But...er, Sheriff Frawley...” Kathlene seldom was at a loss for words, but she knew her commanding officer at least favored the
sportsmen
and might actually be one of them.

Myra had stopped at a stop sign and glanced toward Kathlene. “If you're trying to say that your boss is as much of an outspoken creep in favor of guns and killing people and protected animals as well as breaking state laws as the rest of them, I'm not going to argue with you. But this has to be resolved. Now. So are you with me?”

Kathlene felt certain this was not going to lead to anything good—not until the anarchists were shown to be what they were and brought down.

But she had to answer the question the way she believed. “Yes,” she said, “I'm with you. But Myra—”

“It'll all work out,” Myra interrupted. “You'll see.”

Kathlene knew her friend was right—but not for the reason Myra thought.

She wondered where Jock was at that moment.

And whether she would see him at the commissioners' meeting.

* * *

Jock had made some calls on his way to pick up Ralf.

The most important was to Major Drew Connell.

The others had been to fellow Alpha Force members, shifters like him.

It was time. He knew things were coming to a head around here. He would soon need backup.

It would be dangerous. He knew that, and he made it clear to Drew and the others.

This group of anarchists—and, yes, he felt certain now that was what they were—were out for blood. Maybe things would go their way in the upcoming session, but if they didn't, they would want to exact revenge on those who dared to oppose them.

Like Commission Chair Myra Enager.

And those who supported their opponents—like Deputy Kathlene Baylor.

Jock was not about to let anything happen to either of them.

Especially Kathlene.

Now he pulled into the area behind the cabins he shared with Ralf and Click, got out and went inside the first one.

His aide was there with his cover dog. “I just took Click for a walk,” Ralf said. “I'm ready to go.”

“Good. Let's hurry.”

They got to downtown Cliffordsville in ten minutes, and Jock drove the city streets for a short while before finding a place to park.

By the time they got to the County Administration Building's main entrance, a huge crowd had gathered there. The sportsmen? Yes. But the town's entire population also seemed to be heading inside.

For genuine interest, or to witness a showdown?

It didn't matter. Nor did Jock give a damn whether they got seats in the assembly room.

They would be there.

He didn't see Kathlene at first as Ralf and he joined the crowd heading to the same location. But when they got inside, he noticed her right away. She sat at the end of a row in the middle of the room.

Two empty seats were beside her, and she appeared to be defending them.

Her gorgeous blue eyes met his nearly immediately, as if she'd been watching for him. She smiled and waved Ralf and him in her direction.

When they eased their way through the crowd to Kathlene's side, she stood, grabbed his hand for a quick squeeze, then motioned toward those chairs.

“I've been saving these for you,” she said.

* * *

Kathlene pushed back a little as Jock and Ralf edged by her to the seats she'd kept empty, with effort, for them. Jock faced her as he slid by. His chest, in a navy T-shirt, just touched the tips of her breasts that were covered by the dressy blouse she had quickly donned over slacks for this outing. His quick, meaningless touch made her insides tingle—with relief, she told herself. She was glad he was here. Ralf, too.

She hadn't been positive they would come because it wasn't exactly within their cover here to observe the local government. Since they'd attended the previous meeting, maybe being here today would feel like too much.

On the other hand, Jock had apparently been doing fairly well in establishing himself as a potential member of the sportsmen, and a whole bunch of them were here. The guys who'd mostly come dressed in hunting jackets like Nate Tisal, and who hung out with him, were part of that group.

Sitting near her might not be Jock's best choice. On the other hand, ostensibly knowing her was what had brought him to town in the first place. He could always hold a public argument with her if that turned out to be in the best interests of their investigation.

Even if she'd hate it.

Ralf took the vacant seat farthest from her. Jock sat beside her.

“Hi,” she said. “Good to see you.”

“Likewise.” But his tone wasn't especially friendly. She understood. In the role he had taken on, he was now supposed to be pulling away from her as part of the sportsmen's group.

But despite recognizing, and even admiring, his acting ability, she couldn't quite keep a pang of hurt from stabbing her.

She considered how she'd react if who he was pretending to be was real, what someone in her position—what
she
—would say to her soon-to-be-former friend.

Before she figured it out, she heard a stirring through the audience and looked up. The seven county commissioners were taking their places at the table facing the onlookers. With them was Mayor Laurence Davonne.

The show was about to begin.

She hazarded a glance toward Jock. He was looking at her, his stare hard and challenging and unfriendly.

She knew now how someone in her position, how she, would feel when the person she had presumably thought of as a longtime friend had backed away. Maybe even turned on her.

“Jock,” she began.

But she got no further. “Hello, everyone, and welcome,” said the mayor. “Let's get started.”

Jock gave a decisive nod in the direction of the front as if commanding Kathlene to pay attention.

Feeling irrationally hurt at his attitude, Kathlene nevertheless obeyed.

Chapter 19

U
nder other circumstances, Jock would have reached over and taken his
friend
Kathlene's hand.

The tension in the room was almost palpable. Everyone stared at the people in front, and the undercurrent of grumbling, especially loud to Jock but clearly discernible to everyone else, made the mayor speak even more directly into the microphone in his hand.

Even though Kathlene wasn't on duty, two people in uniforms similar to hers stood at the doors, arms crossed. One Jock recognized as her friend, Senior Deputy Tommy X. He didn't know the other one, a young woman. Would they be able to keep the peace?

Surely this crowd wasn't going to get out of hand right here and now...he hoped.

Jock shot a look toward Ralf. His aide's face was placid, as if all was fine.

And in fact, if Jock had really been recruited into the sportsmen and in turn convinced his friend to join, all would, in fact, have seemed fine.

Even with a buddy like Kathlene. He knew he had to act as if their friendship was fraying. It was damned hard to put on an act like that, when what he wanted to do was to wrap his arms around her and usher her from this room and all of the controversy and potential for danger being initiated here.

But he had a role to maintain.

He hadn't had a chance to tell her what he'd found yet. Maybe that was just as well—for now. He'd let her in on it when he could, but for the moment, for her protection, it might be better if she wasn't aware that additional evidence supported her theory.

The mayor, standing near the end of the table with the commissioners mostly behind him, had started to explain the reason for this assembly of the county commissioners so soon after the last one. “I requested the meeting,” Mayor Davonne said, “because of how important I think it is for all aspects of our government to be transparent, to be open and aboveboard.” He turned slightly as if trying to solicit the commissioners' opinions.

Kathlene's friend Myra had pasted a completely blank expression on her face. A couple of the others were nodding, including the man whose name card on the table in front of him reminded Jock he was Commissioner Grabling.

Not Commissioner Ingerton, though. She sat right beside Myra Enager. From this distance, her face seemed pale, her expression stoic yet scared, as if she expected someone to hit her. With all of the people present in this room, Jock could not be certain he'd picked out her scent from the rest, but he'd little doubt that, if he were closer, he would distinguish the smell of her fear.

“Now you all know,” the mayor said, “that things were rather out of order at the last meeting. It was dissolved, and the commissioners went off by themselves and voted on some of the matters before them. Before
us
.

“Now, just a minute, Mr. Mayor.” Myra had stood and moved to speak into the microphone without taking it.

Davonne pulled it away, turning his back as he continued to talk. “Point of order,” he said. “I have the floor.”

“But this is a meeting of the commissioners of Clifford County,” Myra shouted so she could be heard. “You are an official of the City of Cliffordsville.”

The mayor ignored her. “All sessions where matters of public importance are to be voted on should be held in front of our citizens. That didn't happen, and so I requested—no, demanded—that this new meeting be held. The commission should vacate whatever was decided in private chambers before. We need to ensure that laws enacted that affect all, or a significant part of our citizenry, be discussed and voted on in public.”

“Mr. Mayor,” Myra said. “We acted in good faith. And—”

“Excuse me, Madam Chairwoman,” the mayor said smoothly. “Let me continue.”

Interesting, Jock thought. Maybe he had a point.

Or would this situation be different if the laws to be discussed in private and potentially enacted did not affect those who might be prone to violence?

If all that happened was to keep hunting laws as they were, Jock might not like it personally but it wouldn't necessarily be inappropriate.

Even failing to enact stricter gun-control laws might be acceptable. That was definitely a sore subject in many places in this country.

But the county commissioners had acted in what Jock—and he assumed others, too—considered to be good faith to adopt local laws that followed and clarified for local enforcement those their state had recently passed to affect everyone who lived within its borders.

Feeling a stirring beside him, Jock glanced toward Kathlene. She was biting her lower lip. She looked ready to spring up and chew out the mayor, too.

Maybe it was out of character—or maybe not. He reached over and took her hand.

She looked shocked as she glanced back at him. And then she seemed to relax, if just a little.

She nodded slightly, as if he had offered her an explanation of his actions. And then she sat still once more.

* * *

This was such a travesty, Kathlene thought. This place, Cliffordsville, Clifford County, was her home now. And yet the mayor was acting as if he wasn't an elected official but a dictator.

But Jock was right. If nothing else, what was happening here this morning might cause a reaction in the people she believed to be anarchists. She could be proven correct. Vindicated.

But more important, it would then be time for Jock and Ralf to fix things around here. And she would help.

Somehow, whether he liked it or not, she would remain on Jock's team for that.

To the extent possible—and she realized how difficult it might be—she would stay by his side.

The mayor continued to speak for a while. Was this a kind of local equivalent of a filibuster? He didn't seem inclined to cede the floor for anything.

Not until Myra faded back and Commissioner Grabling stood and walked up beside him.

“We very much appreciate your position, Mr. Mayor,” the thin, nearly bald guy in the plaid suit said. “In fact, let me be the first on the commission to say that I, too, believe that our vote in secrecy is not effective. We can all vote the same way as we did then, of course, but we need public comment first. Anyone?”

He looked out over the sea of people.

Kathlene looked around, too, and noticed that her boss, Sheriff Melton Frawley, had arrived, and so had Undersheriff George Kerringston. They remained near the door where Deputy Betsy Alvers stood, one of those on duty today.

Still, Kathlene was glad. The more law-enforcement personnel who were here and obvious, the less this place was likely to get out of hand. She hoped.

Although she wasn't certain what Sheriff Frawley's position would be on that, or on what was being discussed.

Kathlene wasn't surprised when the first person to stand was Tisal. The tall, hefty man had come in his hunter's jacket, as had many of his friends. He hurried onto the stage and took the microphone from Grabling.

Kathlene hazarded a glance at Jock. His expression, as he stared toward the man, looked pleased. Until he looked back at her, and for an instant she could read anger in his gaze, and she knew that, despite what other people who might catch it might think, it wasn't really aimed at her.

She didn't allow herself to smile.

“Thank you, Commissioner Grabling. And Mayor Davonne. My name is Nate Tisal. I'd just like to say that I, and some of my friends, came here to Clifford County temporarily at first, just to meet up and engage in some sporting activities like target practice and hunting. We've found we really like it here and want to stay. But I have to say that what's going on here, at this meeting, is important to us. We've discussed it as a group. We're very concerned not only about where and how new laws are passed, but also the fact that there are new laws at all. Any laws can be too much if they restrict citizens' rights. Yes, we understand that the mayor's in charge of the city, and the commissioners are in charge of the larger county, but none of them, no one, should be in charge of the populace. And so, having this open forum, ensuring that any vote that's taken is in front of all of us—well, we really appreciate it.”

Kathlene again looked swiftly toward Jock. Tisal had done it—nearly. He had all but admitted that he and his group were anarchists, against any kind of laws or government.

That in itself didn't make them dangerous. And yet their engaging in target practice—and in setting off the explosives she had heard—seemed to vindicate her, show that her position was correct.

Were they dangerous, though? She believed so, but so far they hadn't demonstrated it.

Unless, of course, some of them were behind the threats sent to Myra and at least one of her fellow commissioners—and Kathlene felt sure that was the case.

Myra must have thought so, too. She rose suddenly once more and placed herself firmly beside the man who now held the microphone. She grabbed his arm, apparently startling him, since he didn't yank it away.

“Thank you, Mr. Tisal,” she said, and somehow managed to take the microphone into her own hand. “And thank you, Mr. Mayor. As I mentioned before, this is a meeting of the Clifford County Commissioners, and I am its chairperson. We do appreciate the opinions of our citizens, and our potential citizens like you, Mr. Tisal. We normally do like to hold all of our meetings in public to get citizens' comments. This time, though, considering how our last meeting fell apart, we decided to act in private. We regret that some of our county's citizens are unhappy about that, and we will be glad to take a new vote—although I don't think that the results will change. I can see why some people might think otherwise. You see, a few of us, myself included, have received some very frightening threats that make us fear for our lives. Now, I'm not accusing anyone in particular, but considering the timing and what went on at the last meeting—and what's gone on so far here—I believe that anyone who is uncomfortable with our local government and how we enact laws or anything else, doesn't need to come to our meeting or even stay here.” She turned to glance at the mayor, then at Tisal and then at Sheriff Melton Frawley. “So who here, in this room, is ready to admit they issued those threats?” She looked down into the audience, and her gaze stopped in the area populated by men in hunting jackets. And then she again looked at Tisal. “Who's first?” she goaded.

Tisal was not at all polite as he wrested the microphone back into his possession. “I think you are accusing us, Commissioner. Without any proof. You represent the government here in Clifford County. Do you think it's any wonder that I, and my friends, are not fond of the government—or you?”

His turn to look down at his gang, who all stood and started leaving the room.

“We like it here, even if we don't like you,” Tisal continued. “You can be sure that we will stay here, at least for a while. On our own terms. And you can certainly expect some changes around here very soon—to your government and otherwise.”

The sportsmen were gone quickly. And among them were Jock and Ralf, who hadn't even bothered to excuse themselves as they edged out of their seats around her.

Which was only appropriate under the circumstances, Kathlene thought. Even though she wanted to talk to Jock. Maybe even receive a hug of reassurance that all would be well.

But he was doing as he must in his undercover role.

He would remain safe. He had to. But she felt almost desperate to talk to him. Surely they would find a way to stay in touch.

The citizens who were still there were mostly familiar-looking to Kathlene. Myra, again in charge of the microphone, told her fellow commissioners that it was finally time to discuss in public the measures they had passed in private before.

She looked pale to Kathlene, and scared.

Kathlene looked toward the door where Sheriff Frawley, Undersheriff Kerringston and Deputy Alvers stood. Most of the sportsmen had exited that way, and none of the officers had followed.

Was that a good thing?

No one else in the audience seemed inclined to speak. There was obvious tension on the stage where the commissioners remained, particularly when they took their vote.

The matters before them passed. Again. In public.

Unsurprisingly, no one looked thrilled.

And as they finally followed the crowd out of the assembly room, Kathlene felt her phone in her pocket.

Did she dare call Jock?

No. That might only increase the danger to him. But he had assets, methods his new allies couldn't possibly know about.

He would be safe.

He would come back to her—temporarily, of course. But despite his dangerous undercover role, he would stay alive.

Wouldn't he...?

* * *

Ralf drove Jock to the ranch. On the way the two of them mostly discussed their strategy.

“I'm not sure how long it'll take for the rest of the Alpha Force team assigned to this situation to get here,” Jock said. “They've been on alert, so I doubt it'll take long, especially since they can get a military jet to fly them into Billings or a closer small airport.”

“Meantime, we're sportsmen, all in a huff because the county commissioners ignored what our leader, Tisal, had to say.” Ralf jutted out his lower jaw and nodded his head. “We'll join up with our fellow sportsmen and grumble and...well, whatever.”

“Exactly,” Jock said. “Whatever. Or at least we'll get to see what their
whatever
is, hopefully in time to give a heads-up to the rest of the Alpha Force team before they arrive so we can plan in advance how to handle the sportsmen. We may not be able to stall them from starting their
whatever,
but we'll be able to keep our eyes on that weapons cache to make sure no one gets into them, at least not before Alpha Force can take over.”

“Maybe we can lock the stable down,” Ralf said, “and even, if necessary, destroy it. It's in bad enough condition that it shouldn't be hard to set it on fire.”

BOOK: Loyal Wolf
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