Deadly Eleven

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Deadly Eleven Page 217

by Mark Tufo


  And she expected more from Matt.

  Maybe it wasn’t them that were changing, maybe it was her? She left the company because she couldn’t go along with a lot of the things that they pulled to ‘get the job done’ and she felt that Matt was a cut above. Had she deluded herself? Or maybe she just wasn’t cut out to make the ‘hard decisions’ as Matt would put it.

  She jumped into her Jeep and sat staring out the windshield, holding the key, but not hitting the ignition yet.

  What was wrong with her? Why was she second guessing herself? She had devoted her life to this job. She had no private life to speak of. The closest thing to a relationship she’d had was with Evan over three years ago. And nobody else had stepped into that roll since then. Since his release, neither one of them had the time or had put forth the effort to pick up where it had left off.

  She wanted to cry. But instead, she twisted the key in the ignition and headed back to the hangar. She had some soul searching to do and she wasn’t going to be able to do it sitting in the parking lot of the BX.

  Chapter 255

  The HH-60 Pave Hawk approached Tinker Air Base in Oklahoma City and Apollo breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a long night and an eventless morning as the squad set a deep perimeter around the battle scene allowing the cleanup crews to do their job. The story, as far as he knew, was that a military transport train had derailed and the military was cleaning up a fuel spill and some chemicals that, when mixed, could result in a deadly gas. It kept a lot of the civilians away and the Apaches kept any nosy reporting aircraft away.

  Satellite imagery found the tunnel that the newly termed ‘gopher troll’ had emerged from. The squad followed the road graders dragging the carcass back to the entrance and then searched the interior for any evidence of secondary invaders. The risk was very low as trolls are usually solitary creatures, but not all trolls act alike. Once they were assured that the creature was alone, the cleanup crews sprayed it down with aqueous film forming foam used to fight fuel fires to slick it’s skin, then pushed it back into its hole and buried it. The foam and high pressure water was used to wash away blood and gore from the battle scene into a pit and buried in the middle of a wheat field.

  The real question of the day was, ‘how did a troll end up in Kansas of all places?’ Trolls are indigenous to the European continent, although sometimes the smaller ones were known to hitch a ride on transport ships or wander close to the coast and fall off a pier and wash out to sea where they bob and float across the waters to another continent. That was how trolls were established in Nordic countries thousands of years ago and evolved to survive the colder climates. But on those rare occasions that a troll ended up in ‘the new world’ it was almost always along the coast. Perhaps this one had washed up on a shore and being so happy to have land under its feet again, it began to dig and didn’t come up until it hit Kansas? He had no idea, but it was taken care of and people were safe again.

  The Pave Hawk made its approach for Tinker, and rather than heading for the normal helipads, received clearance to land at the reserved helipad closest to the MS hangar. Apollo hit the coms to his squad mates. “Ready your gear. We’re about to land.”

  The HH-60 touched down and the door slid open. Apollo and his team stepped out, gear in hand and walked into the hangar. Taking the freight elevator down into the bowels of the facility, Apollo really expected Sanchez to be waiting for him when the elevator doors opened. She wasn’t.

  The squad headed to the armory and checked in their weaponry, then to the locker room and stowed their gear. As the rest of the team headed to the showers, Apollo went in search of Sanchez. She was propped on the couch in front of some cable news show cleaning her nails with a survival knife. “Hi home, I’m honey!” Apollo joked, his arms spread wide.

  “Meh.” Sanchez waved him off. “News says there was some military train derailed in Kansas. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” her voice nonchalant.

  Apollo plopped down on the couch beside her and raised his arms up, locking his hands behind his neck, “Who, me? No idea. I don’t do trains.” He grinned.

  “Santa mierda, what is that smell?” She held her nose. “Is that you?”

  “What? I don’t smell nothing?”

  “Did you fart on me? Cabron, we aren’t married, you can’t do that!” She began hitting him.

  Apollo was smiling and grabbed her hands and pulled her in for a kiss, but she struggled away from him. “Kiss me, I missed you.” He smiled.

  “You smell like shit!”

  “I smell like troll,” he corrected.

  “Ugh! You got it on me!” she said disgustedly. “I’m going to need a shower!”

  Apollo pulled her in close to him and held her, this time she gave up and allowed him to hold her. “You can scrub my back and I’ll wash your hair,” he whispered into her ear.

  “You’re lucky you have a nice ass,” she mumbled. “I’m going to enjoy kicking it when we’re done.” She wasn’t smiling.

  “Aw, come on. You love me and you know it.”

  “You wish, big boy.” She elbowed him in the ribs. “You make me smell like troll poop just to get me naked in the shower? That is bad, cabron. Very bad for your health.”

  “I care about you too much to…”

  “What?” she asked, turning to him. “Wait. No, Apollo.” Maria shook her head. “Apollo, no.”

  Apollo was confused. He loosened his hold around her waist and she pulled away slightly. She turned to face him, and he could tell, this wasn’t going to be good. “What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head. “Apollo, I really enjoy what he have.” She nodded. “Yeah, the sex is good. I mean, it’s world-rocking fantastic, okay?” He smiled. “But, we have to be careful just how far we… ‘invest’ ourselves into this. Okay?”

  Apollo’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t think I’m following you, Maria. I care about you a great deal. I’m falling in love with…” she put her fingers over his mouth.

  “No. Don’t say it. Please? If you say it, you’ll jinx us.” She sighed. “We have very dangerous jobs. Either one of us could be taken out at any given time. So, I think it’s best if we don’t get any more emotionally involved than we absolutely have to.”

  “Are you breaking up with me?” he asked, his mind racing. His heart was thumping so loudly in his chest that he didn’t know how she couldn’t hear it.

  “No! Not at all. I’m just saying, we shouldn’t get so involved that we…let ourselves fall into the L-O-V-E trap, that’s all.”

  “Are you afraid of a commitment?”

  “What?!” Sanchez pushed off him. “Do you have any idea how much of a commitment it takes to make it through SWAT? How much dedication you have to have to hang with the men?”

  “You can have commitment to a job, but not to another person, Maria,” he explained. “You’re afraid to get too close to someone who cares about you.”

  “You’re insane,” she muttered and started to get up. Apollo pulled her back down into his lap and held her.

  “Let me up, puto!” She struggled against his massive arms and began to kick at him.

  “No. This is loco, Maria.” He held her tighter.

  “Let me up or I’ll bust your balls.”

  “I’d rather you bust my balls than break my heart, dammit!” She struggled a moment more, then stilled.

  “Why you say that?”

  “Because you’re killing me here,” he said so softly that she could barely hear. “I thought we had something special, and you’re wanting to play it like we’re just fuck buddies.” Apollo sighed and released her from his grip, but left his arms around her. “I don’t think I can do that.” She turned to look at him. Her face was still angry, but her eyes were softening. He lowered his head and pressed his face into her neck. “Maybe once I could have been happy with that, but you deserve more. I need more than that.

  “Look, I’m sorry if somebody hurt you or if you’re just not ready
for somebody to love you. But I can’t help it. I do love you. And I’m gonna tell you that I love you. I’m gonna show you that I love you…because I do. And unless you tell me to hit the bricks, I say that you’re absolutely right. Life is too short not to love somebody every moment of every day when you got the chance to. Just because there’s a chance that one of us might die? Hell, what if we live to be a hundred? Think of all the time we would have lost not loving each other? I don’t want to lose a minute of it.”

  He felt her hand against his cheek, and he raised his face to meet hers. She had a silly smirk across her face. “You should be writing cards for Hallmark or some shit, you know that?”

  He grinned. “I can’t rhyme.”

  “What? A brother who can’t rhyme? So you can’t rap?” she joked.

  “Nope. Can’t dance either if you can believe that,” he said, flashing a toothy grin.

  “Tell me that you can’t play basketball and I’m going to start thinking that you’re white with a really dark tan!” she laughed.

  He raised his eyebrows at her. “With a ‘unit’ like this and you gonna call me white?”

  She smirked at him. “Pft. I’ve seen bigger, cabron.”

  Suddenly jealous he asked, “You have? When?”

  “On my uncle’s ranch. On a horse he had. Big white stallion.” She smiled.

  “I should have known…” He kissed her. After just a moment, she pushed him back.

  “You really stink, you know.”

  “I know.” He motioned toward the showers. “Care to join me?”

  “I knew you got me stinky just to see me wet and naked.”

  Franklin awoke in his own bed. He lay there and blinked his eyes. His head still ached, but nothing like it had. His memory fell together like pieces to a puzzle. It was almost like remembering a dream, but rather than visions of things his mind created while sleeping he was remembering parts of his life…recent parts. Parts that he hadn’t remembered until now.

  A hacker? The USB drive. Mitchell. Breaking his watch. A vampire…staring at him intently? Damien picking him up and jumping out his window? Flying out to Tinker Air Base. Argh…too many pieces. His head hurt.

  He crawled out of bed and slipped on a robe. The sunlight hurt his eyes. Coffee may help. He went to the bathroom and grabbed a bottle of headache formula. Acetaminophen, aspirin and caffeine mixed together in one tablet, supposedly helps with everything from migraines to hangovers. Three pills and a cup of coffee for breakfast. Walking down his stairs, he glanced at the family portrait hanging in the hallway. Images of him throwing his phone and shattering the framed copy in his office came racing back…his headache spiked. Franklin stumbled on the stairs, yet he held on to the pills.

  He walked into the kitchen and flipped on the coffee maker. He waited while it brewed and glanced out the window. It was a dreary day. Overcast skies, but at least, no rain. The two cup maker gurgled and perked and Franklin removed the mug, added Half & Half from the fridge and took the pills. He had no idea what day it was, or even the date. He glanced at his watch. His Rolex sat perfectly on his wrist, right where it should be. It looked newer to him somehow. Then his mind saw it with a broken crystal and him handing it to the jeweler for repair, and his headache spiked again. Franklin doubled over and grabbed his temples with both hands. It felt like someone was driving a hot poker through his skull.

  Feeling nauseous, he went to the drawer and removed a towel and wet it in the sink. He wrung it out and put it over his face. He glanced at his watch again. It was almost 7AM. If this pain didn’t subside, he’d be of no use today. He went to the wall and tried to see the date, his eyes having trouble focusing. It was a weekday according to his watch. He should be in the office. Damn. He picked up the phone and dialed the office. He’d leave a message for his secretary and let her know his circumstances. She could rearrange his schedule. His mind flashed to him yelling at her to do just that, then of him not remembering that he had, and those pieces fell into place too…and his headache spiked again. Franklin almost dropped the phone and the nausea rose to another level. He held himself against the counter, cold sweats breaking out against his skin as he waited to leave the message. When he was done, he hung the phone up and stumbled back to his coffee. It suddenly didn’t sound so good.

  His mind flashed to Damien laying him in his bed and pulling the covers over him. Was he tucking him in? “Soak in a warm bath when you wake up. It will make it all easier,” he told him. “Don’t be surprised if you get a little sick. It will be a lot like motion sickness.” The pieces fell into place and Franklin’s stomach lurched. He barely made it to the kitchen sink before he heaved.

  When he was done, his legs felt weak. He reached for the coffee to rinse his mouth and spat it into the sink then rinsed it all down the drain. He took a long pull from the now cool coffee and staggered up the stairs to the bathroom. Franklin drew a bath and slowly stripped while the water filled the tub. He turned to the mirror and was shocked at the dark circles under his eyes. You look like death, old boy. His reflection agreed. He turned and looked at his profile. He sucked in his belly a bit and then smiled to himself. Who was he kidding? I’m too old to worry about such things. Not like you’re going to turn the head of some pretty young thing.

  The image of a beautiful redhead hit his mind. Her round hips and full breasts. His eyes widened as he remembered her eyes. Those exotic emerald green eyes that he found absolutely enchanting. Franklin found himself feeling aroused and excited and holding his breath at the memory. Who was she? He kept replaying the memory of her in his mind, getting more and more excited as he did, then the piece fell into place and his headache spiked again.

  Franklin was brought back to the present and turned off the water. The tub was almost over full when he realized what was going on around him. He caught his breath and stepped into the tub. It was warmer than he intended, but he slowly lowered himself into the water, letting his skin grow accustomed to the heat. He lay with a washcloth over his eyes in the semi-gloom of the room and rested. He remembered the red haired beauty and found his body responding to the memory. He remembered her servicing him with her mouth, and he touched himself. He remembered the feel of her breasts in his hands. He remembered kissing along the cheeks of her ass. He remembered watching her walk into the bathroom and how her ass moved. He remembered how her cock swayed back and forth when she came out of the bathroom…his feet slipped against the end of the tub at the realization that his ‘dream woman’ had a penis and Franklin’s head went under the water. He came up spurting and gasping, spitting and sucking for air, his washcloth having fallen over his mouth and nose, in effect waterboarding himself.

  She had a what?! The piece fell into place and Franklin’s headache spiked once more. Each time it spiked, it took a little less time to drop down to a dull thud, but the spikes seemed to get worse. When he recovered, he replayed the memory in his head. Yes, she had a penis. But how? How could such a beautiful, enticing woman have…? He shuddered. He didn’t want to think about it anymore. He replayed the entire event and was assured that nobody knew of the indiscretion. She had called him Stewart and had no clue his real identity. Whatever had occurred the night he spent with her, nobody would ever know of it.

  Senator Franklin sighed, replaced his washcloth, and lay back again. Let the memories continue. And continue they did. One after another until all the pieces of the puzzle were replaced and Senator Leslie Franklin’s memory had been completely restored. When enough pieces of the puzzle that had been his displaced memory were put back, the bathwater was cold, the headache mysteriously lifted and the fog that he had been living in was lifted.

  Franklin stepped from the bath a new man. One might say he had been reborn of the water that day. He had a renewed purpose and a restored vision.

  He would stop at nothing to destroy Colonel Matt Mitchell and his damned Monster Squad. He had to for Damien’s sake…he was all he had left.

  Chapter 256

  Ru
fus sat at a round table with delegates from the Beastia Conventio. Many had taken great risk to slip from their territories and attend this meeting. Their weariness showed in their collective faces. Many were more than nervous, and some appeared quite shaken at the numerous empty seats at the once full table. Murmurings of the missing and rumors of how they had fallen to the many human hunters and their military teams across the world were hard to miss.

  Rufus allowed them to hold their casual conversations and delayed calling the meeting to order while the attendees gossiped among themselves. Let them stew in their fear. It will only make selling Mr. Thompson to them easier once they’re worked up a bit more.

  Natashia appeared through a doorway and Rufus gave her a slight nod. She slipped back and went to Jack’s room where Nadia and he were speaking of the coming moon and their plan to test his theory. Natashia knocked lightly at the door and stepped inside. “Jack? Rufus requests a favor of you, if you can spare a few moments of your time, please,” she said softly.

  Jack smiled at his new mother-in-law, “Sure, mom.” He once enjoyed grating her with the unaffectionate term, but now, it seemed to grow on her. She looked barely old enough to be Nadia’s older sister, yet… “What does Rufus need?”

  She withdrew his uniform and tactical vest from a wicker basket. It had been cleaned and pressed. She held it out to him. “He has delegates from the other families here. Soon he will be telling them about you and your agreement to go back to your people,” she explained. “He feels that if you make your presence known, it will drive the importance of what you do home to them. It will make it more…‘real’ to them.”

  “He needs their permission?” Jack asked.

  “No.” Natashia smiled. “Not at all. But many are planning on taking matters into their own hands. They are wanting to take the fight to your people on their own terms, and Rufus is hoping to stay their hand a little longer. By making your presence known, they will see that what he says is real and perhaps save many lives in the process. Both human and vampire.”

 

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