Wrecked Intel (Immortal Outcasts®): An Immortal Ops® World Novel

by Mandy M. Roth

  He didn’t want them knowing just how over the top his shark side was now. How it had increased in size substantially and become volatile. Gone were the days of being able to give control over to his shark side and let it swim for a week or so unmonitored in open water.

  Cody barely trusted his shark enough to let it out at all anymore, but he had no choice. If he went too long between shifts, bad things would happen. Each time he gave in to the need to shift forms and swim as a shark, he clung to every shred of control he could gather.

  The saddest part of it all was that he strongly suspected his issues with control were still better than those of many men he knew. They’d all been subjected to so much crap. It was grossly unfair, but it was what it was. There was no changing the past.

  The best he could do was try to help as many people as he could, supernatural or not. In addition to helping others, keeping himself surrounded by friends he trusted was important. The men he thought of as brothers gave him something else to focus on than his unstable shifter side.

  Cody was fairly certain that Armand had begun to suspect not all was right in Cody’s world as far as shifting went. The French vampire was simply too polite to point it out. That, or he didn’t think the issue was as big of a problem as Cody did. Armand tended to remain calm in extreme situations, making Cody look like a worrier, which was saying a lot.

  Bill had managed to test Armand’s limits too though. The small man had that much skill.

  Armand and Bill had had a number of run-ins over the past few days, and Cody was fairly sure Armand would break his long-running streak of not killing an innocent human if Bill kept up his antics. After all, Bill had nearly re-killed the vampire with his grenade launcher stunt the day before. The grenade had gone higher and wider than Bill had planned when aiming at a van owned by the retreat.

  Unluckily for Armand, he’d been in the building just beyond said van. The grenade had left him banged up but not seriously injured. Though it had caught Armand’s hair on fire. Thankfully, the flames had been doused quickly.

  Cody hid his laughter as he remembered the sounds of Armand stringing together new curse words in his native French as the fire was extinguished. It had then taken eight other operatives to drag Armand away from the area and keep him from killing Bill with his bare hands.

  Since Armand was typically very passive and even-keeled, it spoke volumes to Bill’s annoyance level.

  As much as Cody wanted to laugh at the man, it was best he not. Doing so would only encourage Bill. Not that he needed much in the way of motivation. Though at the moment, even with as even-tempered as Cody usually was, he was grappling with the urge to slip Bill a tranquilizer to get a few hours of peace. Then again, Bill snored loud, so there would still be that.

  Every man had a breaking point, and Bill was fast on his way to discovering Cody’s.

  With a long, slow breath, Cody looked across the impromptu command center that had been set up some seventy-two hours prior. The walls were institutional white, as was most everything in the entire facility, and the place smelled heavily of lavender, to the point it had been making Cody’s eyes water. The lavender concoction had been used to confuse a supernatural’s senses…and mask other things.

  Mission accomplished.

  The resort had been a front for some nefarious activities carried out by crazy doomsday-cult hippies who worshiped a false prophet. The man they followed, Caladrius “Cal” Fabius, had been certifiable, from what Cody had gathered from those who had met him and who’d had direct dealings with him.

  All evidence pointed to that assessment being correct.

  Every new rock they flipped over showed yet another tangled web the man had managed to weave.

  Evil geniuses weren’t anything new. They seemed to be a dime a dozen as of late. But Cody had to hand it to the Flock, as the cult had liked to be called: they had put up one hell of a fight. Since the evil hippie dudes had outnumbered the good guys by about ten to one, the odds had been in their favor.

  Big time.

  Still got their asses handed to them though. Admittedly, it had been touch and go for a minute there, with the side of evil nearly winning, but the tides had turned in favor of the good guys with a little help from the most unlikely of sources—Bill, Gus, and the cult leader’s daughter.

  Didn’t matter.

  It was still a win for the side of good.

  Not to mention it went to show wearing all white, holding hands, and singing songs to a self-proclaimed messiah didn’t do shit to prep you for an apocalyptic battle. One would have assumed the evil hippies’ enormous stockpiles of weapons and the fact they were all supernaturals would have helped.

  Nope.

  They still lost.

  “Aussie,” said one of the other operatives in the room. “You need to put your humans on a leash.”

  Cody cleared his throat and glanced at the man in question. Theodoar (Teddy) Beckert was across the room, near a drop screen that was displaying information being fed to the location by one of the Outcast safe houses that was about an hour away. The safe house was state-of-the-art, one of the best Cody had ever seen.

  Teddy’s long dark hair was secured at the nape of his neck by a leather strap, something Cody could remember the man doing for decades. He had on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt with an image of a cartoon bear who had come out of the US Forest Service’s push to educate the public on the dangers of forest fires.

  The shirt was very ironic, considering the fact Teddy was a werebear. Cody wasn’t sure if the man’s nickname was a coincidence because of his given name, or if it had been born out of what he was.

  Teddy caught Cody staring at his shirt, and he lifted a dark brow. “Comment. I dare you,” said the alpha male, the tiniest of German accents poking through.

  “Come on. It’s almost too easy,” said Cody with a shrug. “Where’s the fun in mocking the werebear for wearing that shirt? And they aren’t my humans. If memory serves, Bill and Gus started with Casey. They’re making the rounds. I’m all for shipping them back to him.”

  Casey Black had been part of the same type of testing that had left Cody what he was—more than human. The men were all close and stayed in contact as much as they could. More as of late, because of the bad guys. Cody had tried to get Casey to fly out to Colorado and retrieve Bill and Gus, but Casey had refused, mentioning some crap about Gus telling him it was destined that they remain near Denver for now—specifically, near Cody.

  Just my luck.

  Teddy’s attention went to Bill, who was now swatting at Cody’s abs in an attempt to get the grenade launcher. With another arched brow, Teddy stepped toward Bill and bent to be closer to his level. “Little Crazy Man, you’re giving me a headache. Why don’t you go outside and play or something?”

  Bill ceased his attempts to arm himself and shot Teddy a hard look. “Listen here, Smokey, I didn’t ask for your input, and I’ll have you know I was trying to play outside. The Great-White-Pain-In-My-Ass took my toy.”

  Bill nodded his head and did a rather obvious movement with his eyes to indicate Cody was the pain-in-the-ass in question. Like Teddy wasn’t capable of following along.

  Cody sighed. “The launcher is not a toy. You already blew up a van yesterday with it and Armand is still pissed.”

  Bill touched his chin before rubbing it, looking puzzled. “Refresh my memory, which long-haired dude is that one? You’re all starting to look alike. Anyone ever heard of a barber? The phrase high-and-tight mean anything to all you soldiers?”

  Cody snorted. “Fine one to talk there, Bill. Your hair is going in every direction.”

  “But you can’t put it in a ponytail,” he said, side-eyeing the men in the room. All of whom had hair long enough to wear tied up. “Bunch of girls.”

  Teddy’s jaw set. “Can I eat him?”

  “You werebears are always threatening to eat me,” said Bill. “Ain’t one of you ever done it.”

  “Yet. None have eaten you y
et,” added Teddy before folding his arms over his chest and glaring down at the man. “I may not eat you, but I’m not above hog-tying you and taping your mouth shut.”

  “I’d like to see you try,” said Bill, raising his hands and swinging them around in a crazed manner that Cody suspected was meant to look like martial arts. It was anything but. The grunts mixed with air-chops that Bill began to do only served to drive home Cody’s assumptions.

  Bruce Lee, Bill was not.

  For a second, Cody was worried the wiry-haired man would put out his own eye with all the air-chops and partial kicks he was doing. His rather animated sound effects only made the scene all the more comical.

  Even Teddy’s hard façade began to crack slightly as the edges of his lips curved a bit upward. “I’m sufficiently terrified of you now.”

  Bill jutted out his chin. “As you should be.”

  Cody snorted.

  Bill eyed him. “Which one of you ponytail-wearing freaky-deeks is Armand?”

  “The one whose hair you caught on fire yesterday,” said Cody.

  Bill bit his lower lip. “Hmm. I set more than one guy’s hair on fire yesterday. Be more specific.”

  Teddy laughed but hid it quickly under a cough. “Armand is the vampire.”

  Bill pointed at Teddy. “Aha! Wait, I’m getting blamed for nearly killing an already dead guy?”

  Teddy looked over Bill’s head at Cody. “Let’s just hog-tie him and direct-ship him back to Casey. We don’t even need to poke holes in the box for air or anything.”

  “Okay, but we’re going to need to do the same to his buddy Gus,” warned Cody. “And I’m not sure if you know this or not, but Gus is not a fan of being touched.”

  “And how,” said Bill with a slow whistle through his teeth, in a childlike voice. He finally stopped trying to get the launcher and leaned, his gaze going to the doorway. “Anyone seen him? He was supposed to meet me back here once Mona was done with her facial.”

  “Mona?” asked Teddy.

  Bill rolled his eyes. “His woman. Geesh, Smokey, pay attention.”

  Teddy groaned. “He’s on my last nerve.”

  Cody understood where the man was coming from. “Don’t eat him. I’ll have to explain to Casey why I let you. Not a conversation I want to have.”

  “I’ll tell him myself,” said Teddy, making a move to go at Bill, who wisely darted out of the room.

  Seizing the opportunity to rest his arm, Cody lowered it. He then handed the launcher to Teddy. “Hold that for me a second. I need to get the blood back to my extremities.”

  Teddy grinned but took the launcher all the same. He set it aside.

  Cody went to work getting the feeling back in his arm. As the prickling sensation of pins and needles started, Bill darted back into the room, snatched the launcher, and tried to make a run for it.

  Teddy caught Bill with one hand, lifting him off the ground, and then seized hold of the launcher with his other hand. The look he gave Cody said he was very much entertaining the idea of eating the human.

  Cody did his best to avoid laughing.

  He failed.

  Horribly.

  Bill kicked at Teddy, and when that didn’t work, he resorted to sticking his thumbs in his ears and waving his hands as he stuck out his tongue.

  Cody laughed harder then.

  “Och, do I want to know what all the ruckus is about?” asked a deeply Scottish-accented voice as a tall man with shoulder-length, ink-black hair and a matching beard, which he’d recently taken to wearing slightly longer than normal, entered the room, holding a cell phone in his hand. Tattoos covered everywhere except his face. Numerous silver piercings were all over him as well. He was in a kilt, which Cody was learning was common for him and his twin brother, paired with biker boots and a T-shirt that had a cross, a vial of holy water and a stake with a wooden mallet. The shirt was taking a dig at the Crimson Ops Division of PSI, better known to everyone as the Fang Gang, which was composed of vampires.

  The man took one look at Bill being held off the ground by Teddy and grinned. “What did the li’l hairy man do this time?”

  “Little Bow-Mac,” said Bill as he grinned at the newcomer and batted his lashes as if he was oh so innocent. “The German here was talking shit about Scotland and William Wallace. I was just trying to set him straight. If you give me back that launcher he took from me, I’ll see to it he doesn’t bad-mouth the Lycan legend again.”

  MacBeth (Mac) McCracken glanced at Teddy, who just so happened to be on Mac’s team that was based out of the Denver branch of PSI. He lifted a dark brow. “Tis clear the wee man has been exposed to my cousin far too much. Is there a detox program that’s Striker specific?”

  Teddy smiled wide. “No. But there should be. Should be one for everyone having to deal with any of you Scots.”

  When it became evident to Bill that his plan to get free wasn’t going as he’d hoped, he switched tactics. “Tell him to put me down, or I’m gonna post the video all over the internet of you getting your hair put in bows by a little girl.”

  Mac stiffened, and then ran a hand over his beard. His gaze hardened on Bill. “You do nae annoy me as you first did, but if you even think of outing wee Andie on the internet, I’ll rip you in two here and now. The lass is nae to be posted anywhere of the sort. Her father is no longer a threat, now that he’s been dealt with, but I’ll nae have a new target put on her tiny head. Am I clear?”

  Andie was the other daughter of Caladrius. She had formed a strange bond with the giant Scotsman, seeming to tame Mac at least slightly when he was around her.

  Bill grunted. “I wasn’t gonna show her face. I’m crazy, not stupid. But I’ll show yours.”

  Mac snorted and went to Teddy, plucking Bill from the man’s hold. He then set Bill on his feet and pointed at him. “Stay.”

  Bill saluted the man.

  When Mac turned his back, Bill seized hold of the launcher from Teddy’s other hand and wrenched it away.

  As he did, it fired.

  Cody had half a second to react as a grenade came flying at him. He dove out of the way just as Armand was entering the room, deep in conversation with Mac’s identical twin, Carbrey (Car).

  Armand’s gaze slid in Cody’s direction, and then widened a moment before he spun and tackled Car, taking him to the ground, where they both just missed being struck as the grenade went over them and landed in the hallway.

  Armand moved with a speed most didn’t possess, a testament to just how old the vampire really was, despite looking no more than thirty. He grabbed the grenade, opened the door to the room across from them, lobbed the grenade in there, and then closed the door fast, getting only a few feet from it before there was a massive explosion that rocked the area and sent the door hurtling at Armand. It hit him in the back and knocked him forward.

  Cody moved quickly and caught his friend, more out of the knowledge Armand was going to try to kill Bill than the worry Armand would be hurt. He was hardy stock. Bill wasn’t.

  Flames licked past everyone in the immediate area, and when it was all said and done, everyone except Bill was on the ground, looking a bit worse for wear.

  Bill was standing there, giving Mac a stern look. “Look what you made me do. I almost killed the already-dead guy—again. Y’all better hope vampires are like cats and have nine lives. Hmm, would that be nine un-lives? What’s the politically correct term for a bloodsucker? I can never keep up on that shit.”

  Armand growled, his demon nearing the surface.

  Cody kept his friend pinned to the floor. “It’s been how long since you killed an innocent human? Don’t throw that hard-fought-for control away over Bill.”

  Armand stiffened, and then sat up slowly, shrugging Cody off him. “It is about to be zero days since I last killed an innocent human—if one can even call that maniac innocent.”

  Bill pursed his lips and tried to sidestep out of the room, still holding the launcher.

  Teddy let out a slow
, long moan. “Ouch. Who is going to clean this place up? Huh? I’m not explaining to General Newman how something blew up in here. I vote we make Cody do it. It’s his human pet who caused it.”

  “For the hundredth time,” said Cody, sitting up as well. “He’s not my human. He’s Casey’s. Blame him.”

  Teddy got to his feet. “Oh, I intend to.”

  Mac pushed off the floor and de-weaponized the small male. “Go to yer room, Bill. Yer grounded.”

  Bill eyed the werewolf up and then down. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

  Car was next off the floor. He joined his brother. Standing side by side, they looked like two imposing towers no one was getting past until the men were good and ready to step aside. “Och, yer an insane little hairy man, Bill. I love it.”

  Mac rolled his eyes. “You would.”

  Armand rose with an effortless grace and dusted off the front of his designer shirt and pants. He then looked at Bill and flashed fang. A hiss was quick to follow.

  Bill grinned. “Those are some big fangs there. Nice. Hey, did the government give you those? Oh, did they give you a big dick too? You an Outcast? They all got handed big willies. I just got LSD out of my deal. Fun, but not as good as a big dick.”

  Armand glanced at Cody. “Before Yosemite Bill so rudely tried to kill me—again—I was coming to tell you we have news.”

  Cody got to his feet and rubbed his right ear, which had a slight ring in it from the explosion still. “What’s up?”

  Car tipped his head as he stared at Cody. “You just had a grenade go off near you and you still look like you’re ready to go catch some waves. Anyone ever tell you that yer verra blond and verra tan? And yer teeth are unnaturally white. It’s unnerving.”

  Ignoring him, Cody set his sights on his friend. “Armand, what did you need to talk to me about? What news do you have?”

  “It’s Walter Helmuth and The Corporation,” said Armand, his voice clipped. “We’re picking up chatter about him. About something big that might be going down soon in or around Savannah. Nothing concrete but enough that I thought you’d want to know.”