Return of the Phoenix - 01 (13 page)

12

“I don’t care what the weather is going to be like, I need to be on a plane to Oklahoma City,” Senator Franklin stated.

The voice on the phone said something back, and Franklin’s face turned red. Why did people in the military always assume that because he was a politician, he must be stupid? Tornadoes meant nothing to him, he was a senator, for crying out loud!

“Then make it a civilian transport! In fact, I prefer civilian carriers, they’re more comfortable.”

The voice argued that the airports in and around Oklahoma City were closed due to the weather and would not be reopening until the weather passed. One of the largest storm cells in history was about to hit the metro area, and air traffic was grounded from Dallas to Kansas City in anticipation of it. Nothing was taking off or landing due to the extremely high winds and threat of tornadoes.

“My dear boy, you do realize you are talking to a United States senator, don’t you?”

“Well, senator, your constituents must be proud that they elected someone who thinks he can control the weather, but the fact remains that the airports are
still
closed until further notice!” And then he hung up.

The Distinguished Gentleman from Illinois seethed at the insolence of the peon who dared hang up on him.
How dare he?!
Franklin screeched as he ripped the phone from the cradle and threw it against the wall. It shattered the framed photo of him standing with his wife before her illness and Damien when we was six (or was he seven?), before stretching the cord to its fullest and careening back across his desk and hitting him in the wrist, cracking the crystal of his Rolex.

Franklin rubbed at his wrist, nursing his wounded pride and his wounded wrist. His pride and joy, the watch that, he felt, helped to distinguish him as a mover and shaker amongst mere mortals had been damaged in his fit of rage. He was just about to blow up again when his secretary stepped into his office, “Sen
ator? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” he snapped. “Did you clear my agenda?”

“Yes, sir,” she answered. “I’ve got all of your appointments moved and your meetings are rescheduled.”

Through clenched teeth he said, “Move them back another day. It seems Mother Nature has decided to toss a monkey wrench into my works.” He grabbed his overcoat off the hanger and his briefcase from the side of his desk. “I’ll be out of the o
ffice for the rest of the day.” And he pushed his way past her leaving her staring at his back.

*****

“What does a full moon have to do with any of this?” Jack asked Nadia.

Nadia sighed and took his hands into hers. She was surpri
singly warm to the touch, and her hands were soft and gentle. Her thumb rubbed against the side of his hand and the butterflies returned to his stomach. Jack felt his face flush a little, but he tried not to show it. He squeezed her hand gently and looked at her face, the curve of her cheek, the shape of her eyes, the curve of her nose, the arch of her brows, and for a moment, he forgot that they were supposed to be talking.

“Jack, how long have you been taking the dark pills?”

“Huh?” His confusion at the question surprised himself. He had to think for a moment to remember how long he had been with the squad. “A few years, I suppose. Does it matter?”

“The length of time? Yes.”

“Why?”

“Do you know how big the pills are that they give you?”

“Nadia, what’s going on? What’s with all the questions?” Jack asked, his hands still in hers.

She looked directly into his eyes and he saw sadness there. Genuine concern laced her face as she spoke. “We found a live virus in your blood, Jack. It is not what we thought we’d find, yet not exactly surprising,” she said. “We do not have the equipment necessary to identify it, but we had our suspicions, so I came to you with these questions.”

“A virus?” Jack knew that a virus usually meant a cold or flu, but he hadn’t been sick since he joined the team. “What kind of virus?”

“There are many kinds of virus. Some make you ill, some can kill. All viruses cause mutations to the host’s DNA through—”

“Whoa, hold on a second! Mutations?”

“Yes. They inject their own DNA material into the cells of the host,” Nadia said. “The body usually fights off these foreign invaders through fever.”

“But I haven’t been sick a day since I joined the squads. In fact, other than getting busted up during the last op, I haven’t felt better.”

“I understand. And if you will allow me to explain—”

“What’s to explain?” Jack said, pushing away from her. “Your tests are wrong. I’m not sick.”

“Jack, you are most certainly
not
sick,” Nadia stated. “You
have been
infected, though.”

“Infected?!”

“Yes. And those black pills you take keep it from taking full effect. We need to get you taking it again to prevent unspeakable things from happening to you.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Nadia?” Jack e
xclaimed.

“Jack,” Nadia said calmly, “you were infected by your own people. The infection can be kept in check, but only with the black substance you have been taking regularly. Otherwise, very bad things can, and
will
happen to you. Bad things, that…once they are done, cannot be undone.”

Jack’s rapid breathing began to slow. He was forcibly cal
ming himself. He had been pushing himself further from her as she spoke, but now he sat and calmly placed his hands back in his lap. Nadia tentatively reached for his hands and caressed them again. “Am I a vampire, Nadia?” Jack asked.

She smiled softly. “No, Jack., you are most certainly
not
a vampire.” Jack looked at her long and hard. Her soft smile broadened and slowly he started to grin. “Are you sure I’m not?” He smiled bigger.

“I am certain,” she said, her smile growing larger.

“Oh, thank God,” Jack said, letting out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he had held. “You were starting to scare the crap out of me!”

Nadia laughed softly with him. “No, Jack, you are not a vampire.” She laid her head against his shoulder and they sighed together. “You are a werewolf,” she said. Jack suddenly went stiff. “Like me.”

*****

With the weather outside growing nastier by the minute, the squads were forced to train indoors and underground. The m
ajority of the Monster Squad’s facilities were under the hangar; this included CQB training areas, indoor firing ranges, the gymnasium, basically everything that shouldn’t be seen by the outside base or could possibly be stumbled upon. But whenever they possibly could, they squads would train off-base in real world scenarios. ‘In the muck’ as they put it. Without getting the sand in your teeth and the mud between your toes, it’s hard to train for real-world situations. Popo argued that training during the storm would sharpen their senses, since they might one day be called to take down something in that exact situation, but the colonel shot down the request. The team was on stand-down. They basically had R&R if they wanted it, but each of the squad members were feeling restless. They wanted to get out from under the hangar and run in the rain. They wanted to feel the ozone charged air on their skin and howl at the thunder.

Lamb put it best when he said he felt like he was amped up on a dozen Red Bulls, even though he hated the taste of the stuff. TD said he felt like he could do a thousand pull-ups and still run a marathon. Spanky sat in a chair and stared at a crack in the wall as if he expected something evil to crawl out of it at any given second. Hammer, Donovan, and Dom all opted to hit the gym and take out their excess energies on the heavy bags and kickboxing dummies. Marshall, Tracy, and Mueller joined them rather than sit and let their energies build up like a pop bottle that had been shaken to the point of explosion.

Apollo slipped off to the showers. He snuck out of the locker room, straining his ears to listen for the footfalls of his teammates. When he was satisfied that they were on the other side of the facility, he slowly closed the door to the shower facility and opened the faucet to as hot as he could stand it. He let it blast across his neck and broad shoulders to try to release the built up tension. It seemed that at least once a month, tensions would build up in all of his team mates and they would all get antsy, as if their energy levels were amped so high they couldn’t release enough. They couldn’t work out hard enough to reach exhaustion, sleep was impossible to find, and sexual frustration was…well, now it was nearly impossible with that incredible little Latina SWAT girl and her incredible ass that had started showering
with
them all. He wanted to just reach out and
squeeze
that ass of hers, to bite it, to pick her up and impale her on himself so many times…but she was a squad member now. A team mate.
His
team mate. He could no more make a move on her than he could make a move on the Padre. He lathered up as best as he could, but noticed that just the fleeting thought of Sanchez had his manhood standing at unwavering attention.

What the hell am I supposed to do with that?
he wondered. There was no way he was going to get caught dead spanking it in the shower. But he never had a chance to make any more decisions as a warm set of hands wrapped themselves around him from behind and he felt the distinct impression of soft breasts press into his lower back.

“I never thought I’d get you alone,” Sanchez growled from behind him. Her searching hands ran down his soapy abs until they found what had moments before embarrassed him. “
Madre de Dios
!” she whispered. She grabbed him by the hips and spun him around to face him. This time, she didn’t look up. Her eyes widened. And she smiled. When she did look up, she licked her lips and growled, “I’ve always loved a challenge.” And her eyes grew darker as she tiptoed and raised her arms up to his neck. He bent down and grabbed a cheek of her ass in each hand and lifted her up to him and took her mouth with his. Apollo could feel her small muscular body sliding against his and it engorged him that much more. He could feel his need throbbing against her.

She let go of his neck and used her hand to guide him where he needed to be.  She had to use her thighs against his hips and lift herself high enough to get him started. He helped by lifting her ass higher. When he was placed correctly, she relaxed her legs and he slowly lowered her. She gasped in his mouth and he covered her moans with his kiss. Slowly, so slowly he entered her tiny body until finally she placed her hands against his chest.

With stuttering words she said, “Wait.” She shivered and her eyes glossed over. She shook there and he could feel her convulsing around him for quite some time. He was only halfway in her. After what seemed an eternity, she relaxed and opened her eyes and stared at him. “Incredible,” she whispered.

He smiled, his teeth seeming even whiter against his dark skin. “And we’re only getting started.” He kissed her again and slowly went deeper. Her breath caught in her throat as she kissed him again.

The shower door banged open and Ing Jacobs came walking in whistling a tune he heard from the radio. He tossed a towel up on a hook and turned to walk to a shower. He saw them in action and froze. Apollo and Sanchez never missed a beat. Apollo was still holding Sanchez and slowly raising and lowering her on himself under the hot water of the shower. Ing couldn’t move. He just stared at the two in action. He couldn’t explain why, but he couldn’t stop staring. If asked, it wasn’t like watching a porn movie, it was something of beauty, and it took his breath away. A stupid thing to say, and he couldn’t explain it, but that was what it was.

Sanchez pulled away from Apollo’s kiss and looked over her shoulder to Ing. “Do you mind? Private party.”

Ing was snapped out of his stupor. “Huh? Oh...uh, yeah. Umm, I was just…er…yeah. I just…like…wow. That was beautiful. I mean, that is beautiful. Ha! I mean…uhh…carry on! I’ll just, um, stand out…you know. I’ll just stand outside the door and umm. You know. Stand guard. You guys just…take all the time you want,” Ing stammered as he stepped back out of the showers.

Apollo looked down into Sanchez’s eyes. “Kids,” he laughed.

Ing came back in quickly and grabbed his towel off the hook. Sheepishly he said, “Sorry. Felt stupid standing out there, naked.” And he slipped back out the door.

Sanchez laughed and she and Apollo went back to what they were doing so well.

13

Mitchell stepped off the elevator and headed to the indoor range. He didn’t often shoot, but when he did, he preferred his privacy. The one thing he did appreciate about his position was that he could take what time he did have and use it as proficiently as he saw fit. If that meant spending it in the gym, he could. If he wanted to go to the indoor range, he could do that as well. As he stepped behind the shooters table and attached a target to the clips, the motorized transom ran it out to distance. A life-sized target, he should be able to score easily with his eyesight. He began loading the magazines and setting them on the table for future use when some of the new recruits came in. The colonel looked up for a moment then went back to loading his magazines.

The men glanced down and noticed the colonel was loading 9MM rounds into one set of mags and .45s into another set. Lamb felt compelled to ask, “Colonel, you don’t carry a FiveseveN like the rest of us?”

“No, son, I’m usually stuck in control and, to be honest, I still prefer the old classics,” Matt said.

The men just nodded. They had grown fond of the new weapons, but some of them really wished they could trade out the carbine for the M4 they were so much more familiar with. They just didn’t know how to breach the subject with the col
onel. He seemed so adamant that they use the same caliber weapon for both their pistol and carbine that it seemed sacrilege to even broach the subject.

The colonel ran through a couple of magazines of 9MM and shot well.
Good enough for an officer
, Jacobs thought. “You ever shoot the FiveseveN, sir?”

Matt glanced at Ing over his glasses as he reloaded his ma
gazines. “Of course, Jacobs. I’m the one who approved the platform,” he said.

The men all just nodded. Finally, Matt set his ammunition and magazines down and looked at the men. “Is there something you boys would like to discuss with me?” he asked point blank.

Most of the men took half a step back, muttering, ‘no’ or ‘no, sir’ as they did, but Lamb stepped forward. “Sir, I’d like to request permission to transition back to the M4 battle rifle.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. Of the two squads, none had ever requested anything like this before. They all seemed more than happy with the FN weaponry. They loved the cyclic rate, the power of the 5.7 round, the lethality of the low grain .224 bullet, the light weight of the weapon, the short barrel was perfect for CQB. He saw no flaws with it. “Is there a reason why, Ron?”

“Sir, with all due respect, it’s just too small for me. I can’t comfortably get a cheek weld on it and it feels like I’m trying to use a pistol as a rifle,” Lamb said. “You made an excellent decision in the round, sir, and the platform is more than sound, it’s just too uncomfortable for me to get used to. My arms are too long and my neck simply doesn’t bend right to get a proper cheek weld. I’ve tried using three different optics on it and I just can’t get it.” Lamb looked almost distraught over it.

Matt nodded his head. He looked around at the other new men and asked, “Any more of you having trouble adjusting to the new weaponry?” Robert Mueller and Gus Tracy both raised their hands. Matt nodded his head again and looked at the ground. “And all of you are wanting to switch to the M4?”

The two men exchanged glances. Tracy shrugged. “I might could make the SCAR work, sir, but the M4 is more comfortable. It was my go-to weapon.”

“All right,” Matt said. “First thing tomorrow go to Ms. Youngblood and put in a requisition for new M4s. Make sure we order enough hi-capacity magazines for you boys to both train with and for field use.” Matt went back to loading his magazines for use on the range. “And make sure the armory knows that we’ll have three squad members switching primary weapons. He’s going to need to keep spare parts on hand, and probably spare weapons.” Matt put his ear protection back on and took aim. “You boys are hell on weaponry in the field, and I damn sure don’t want to end up short on equipment when the shit hits the fan.”

He emptied his weapon into the target and dropped his magazine to the floor, sliding a new one in as the first one fell out and, releasing the slide forward, he was back on target in the blink of an eye and shooting the eyes out of his target. When that magazine was empty, he dropped it and blew the smoke from his Beretta. “I’m no squad member, but the old man can still hold his own.”

Robert Mueller cracked a smile, “I’d let you cover my six, sir.” With the nod of his head at the decimated target he added, “Any damned day.”

*****

Jack was still in shock from what Nadia had told him. She remained cuddled next to him and rubbing his hands, calming him. His world had been turned upside down in a matter of m
oments. He literally went from being relieved that he wasn’t a vampire to finding out that he was a werewolf, and never had a clue.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Positive.”

“How?” he stammered. “I mean, how can you be sure? And how are the little black pills the key?”

“The black pills are wolf’s bane. They prevent you from making the shift if you take it regularly. This is why you need to start taking it again. The full moon is close, and we cannot take chances. You must start taking it again.”

Jack’s mind was reeling. Too large of a realization and too much information at one time, and to top it off, Nadia tells him that
she
is a werewolf as well? Or did he hear her wrong?? “And you’re a wolf as well?”

“Yes, I too, am a wolf.”

“And this is how you know so much?”

“No,” she answered, smiling at him, cuddling closer. “Many of the things I’ve learned…I’ve only recently learned. I’m a na
tural wolf. My parents were natural born wolves as well. I’ve never known anything but being a wolf.”

“So, you can shift at will like Rufus was telling me?”

“Yes. And as long as it is not the full moon, I control the wolf.”

“But when the moon is full, you shift whether you want to or not, and then the wolf controls you,” he stated.

“Yes.”

“And this will happen to me?”

“No,” she said sternly. “We will keep you taking the bane and you will not shift. You will not like the shift, Jack. The wolf will always have control of you, and never you having control of the wolf. You
must
keep taking the bane.”

“What if I don’t want to?” he asked, studying her face clos
ely.

“Why would you say such a thing, Jack? Being the wolf is not an enjoyable thing. The wolf will always struggle with your humanity, struggling to dominate who you are. Its aggression will manifest in your daily life.” She pulled away to look him directly in the eyes. “Slowly at first. But the more you shift, and the more the wolf becomes free, the more it will try to steal your life during the times it cannot be free.”

“Okay, so I go back to taking the bane—”

“No! It does not work that way, Jack.” She was struggling to find the right words. She needed to make him understand that once you crossed the threshold, there was no going back. “Once you make the initial shift, you can never stop it again. No matter how much bane you take, no matter what you do, or whose help you seek, you will never be free of the wolf or the full moon’s power. The shift
will
take you and you will take the wolf’s form.”

“Forever?”

“Forever,” she said. “There will be no going back. Even if you lock yourself away as I do on the full moon, even in the darkest of dungeons, the deepest of caves, the moon’s pull will transition you.”

Jack thought about what she said. He pulled her closer to him and he felt her shiver against him. He nodded and wrapped his arms around her. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll start taking the bane if it will make you happy.”

She nodded and he could hear her sniffle. He didn’t know why it was so important to her, but it was. He held her like that for a while and once in a while he could feel her shoulders tremble and he imagined she was trying not to cry.

“Nadia, I was just thinking about something.”

“Yes, Jack?” she said, wiping her face.

“If you shift before the full moon, you keep control, right?”

“Yes.”

“Is there a limit on how long you can keep that form?”

Nadia thought for a moment and then answered, “No. I suppose that if we chose, we could live our lives as a wolf and never shift back to human.”

“So, if a natural born wolf shifted when it wasn’t a full moon, and stayed that way…what happens
during
a full moon if they stay a wolf?” he asked, looking down at her.

Slowly she pulled away from him, thinking to herself. “I do not know, Jack. To my knowledge, nobody has ever tried what you suggest.”

“So we don’t know if a natural wolf would still keep control and have full control of their mind if they shifted prior to the full moon?”

“No. We do not.”

“How long until the full moon?” he asked her, a grin spreading across his face.

*****

Finally!
Franklin thought as he took his seat on the commercial flight to Oklahoma City. The commercial flight gave him the opportunity to fly into that nasty state unannounced where he could rent a car and hit the base at the last minute. Mitchell wouldn’t know what hit him. Franklin would call it an impromptu meeting. He’d claim that he had a layover in this god-forsaken state and thought he’d drop by and check in on his pet project. He’d paint on an unfelt smile and pretend that everything was hunky-fucking-dory and go about as if everything was just fine. But the whole time, he’d be looking for any and every opportunity to get access to a secure computer and plug in the little USB device the hacker had delivered to him. The little device looked harmless enough, but even Franklin knew that looks were deceiving. The little electronic doo-dad would be the Monster Squad’s undoing.

As the plane lifted off and took to the skies, the fasten seat belt sign went off and the pilot announced that it was okay for them to get up and stretch their legs about the passenger co
mpartment. First Class was much roomier and the seating more comfortable, so the need to get up wasn’t really necessary. Franklin did unfasten his seat belt, though, and when the flight attendant came by, he lifted his arm.

“Stewardess, I’d like a Jack and Coke, please.”

The flight attendant made an unkind face at the un-PC term, but she brought him the little bottle of Jack Daniels and a can of Coke with a plastic cup filled with ice. Franklin didn’t bother with a ‘thank you’ or a ‘kiss my ass’, he simply popped the tops on both and began mixing. He smiled to himself when he thought of the chain of events that he hoped to unfold.

Plant the device, download the data, get it to the hacker, make the Monster Squad known to the rest of the world, and make it look like they released the information themselves. Paint them to be money wasting military show-offs and then disown them all. Ruin them, publicly, politically, and in the courts of the media.

Ah, it felt like a perfect plan. Nothing short of an act of god could stop him now.

The plane chose that exact moment to hit a small bit of tu
rbulence, and Franklin spilled his drink in his lap. Despite the cold, the spilled drink made it look at as though he had wet himself. And it smelled of cheap alcohol. Just what he needed. He took the small cocktail napkin and dabbed at the spill on his trousers, then stood and headed to the restroom to clean the mess up better. It was going to take more than a speed bump in the sky to deter Senator Leslie Franklin.