The Werewolf of Marines Trilogy

by Jonathan P. Brazee

  “It’s too early for the bath,” she said professionally, directing the men to take Claire out and put her on the table.

  She inserted the IV and started a saline drip.

  “In the previous cases, hemodialysis was necessary, you said?” she asked as she examined Claire.

  “We believe so,” Keenan told her.

  “In that case, I’m going to set it up. There could be complications with it, so I intend to be very conservative at first. I can always ramp it up.”

  Keenan watched as the woman finished her examination. She connected Claire to a bank of monitors, then started the blood line for the hemodialysis machine.

  Claire, his strong, vital Claire, looked small and helpless on the table. She was completely unconscious, and whether or not she ever opened her eyes again was up to this middle-aged, overweight woman. Aiden hoped she was more competent than she looked.

  Then the wait began. At three hours, Claire started going into convulsions, and the woman injected several drugs into the IV line. That seemed to stop them, and Aiden tried to force his pulse back down.

  The woman—Aiden never even asked her name—kept busy, monitoring Claire’s vitals. Her temperature climbed to 103, which was lower than Keenan’s had been, but still dangerous. The woman adjusted the hemodialysis machine and said she was considering a gastric lavage. Aiden knew that meant something to do with her stomach, but if it would help, he was all for it.

  By morning, Claire’s temperature had climbed to 105. It was time for the ice bath. They lowered her body into the bath carefully, keeping all the IV and blood lines out of the water. Her body temperature eased back down to 103, but no lower.

  She’d had no more convulsions, but the woman mentioned that the drugs that helped control them could be affecting her temperature as well.

  Aiden started peppering the woman with questions, so many that Keenan took him aside and told him to go get breakfast. Aiden protested, but the major was pretty adamant, so he walked outside and to a 7-Eleven.

  They wanted breakfast? Hostess Pies, jerky, and Cokes would have to do.

  He’d calmed down by the time he’d gotten back, and he tried to stay out of the way. He knew the woman was doing the best she could.

  That day was hour after glacially moving hour of waiting. Several times they’d put Claire in the ice bath, and once, the woman administered the lavage, something that bothered Aiden to watch more than anything else. Claire had groaned during the procedure, and that tore at him.

  For the most part, Claire didn’t move. Her body was just a housing for the battle that raged inside of her. Her mind was not there, and all Aiden could do was hope that her mind would somehow find its way back.

  Around midnight, Aiden was woken from where he’d been nodding off to a flurry of activity. The woman was barking orders to get Claire into the bath. Aiden saw the body temperature on the readout: 107. As they picked her up, she started spasming. That knocked out two of the IV lines, but they got her in the ice bath while the woman reconnected the lines.

  For the first time, the woman showed evidence of panic. She gave orders, ran the hemodialysis again, and administered more meds, but Aiden could see she had lost most of her calm assuredness. That scared the crap out of Aiden.

  He grasped Claire’s hand as if he could keep her alive by force of will alone.

  “We need to get her to a hospital,” the woman told Keenan.

  “Can they do anything else for her?” he asked.

  “No, not really. But I’ve done about all I can do.”

  “Can moving her now hurt?”

  “Oh, crap! No, we need to keep her here on the hemodialysis. Taking her off could be the end. Sorry, sorry, I’m just afraid we’re going to lose her,” she said in despair.

  “Aiden?” Keenan asked.

  “Maybe we should have done that in the beginning, but if we need to keep her hooked up to that blood machine, I think we’ve got to ride this out,” he said, trying to put conviction he didn’t feel into his voice.

  “You heard the man. It’s up to you to pull her through,” he told the woman.

  It took almost an hour, but finally, the readout hit 106. It was still deadly dangerous, but at least it was lower. Her brain might have been cooked, however, and even if her body survived, Claire would be gone.

  Aiden held her hand as the other two dumped more ice in the water. When her temperature slid to 105, the woman told them to take her out. They put her back on the bed, putting ice packs around her. The steady hum of the hemodialysis machine wouldn’t let Aiden forget, though, that Claire would be dead by now without modern medical care.

  Aiden started crying for the first time since she’d taken sick. He held her hand and put his face next to her shoulder.

  “Aiden, let go, you’re squeezing my hand too tight,” a voice spoke out, worming its way into his consciousness. He opened his eyes, unsure if he’d just dreamed it. Keenan was asleep on a chair, and Hozan was gone. The woman, though, her eyes bloodshot, had turned around from where she was looking at the readouts.

  It was morning, and Aiden didn’t know how he’d let himself fall asleep.

  “Aiden! You’re hurting me,” Claire said beside him, opening her eyes.

  He dropped her hand and jumped up. Keenan woke up with a start, and the woman took two quick steps, peering into Claire’s eyes.

  “Claire!” was all he could say.

  “Am I OK?” she asked. “Did I make it?”

  “Yes, young lady. You made it,” the woman said, relief in her voice. “You made it!”

  Chapter 48

  Keenan met him at the entrance, a pass in hand. Aiden was impressed. The building was huge. More than that, he could almost feel the power emanating from it. As Keenan led him down a hall, portraits of civilians hung, almost like an honor guard. People walked purposefully, doing the nation’s business.

  A three-star general walked by, just like everyone else, without a phalanx of guards preceding him. A three-star!

  Aiden had seen the Pentagon on TV before, but actually walking inside was something else, something that could not be conveyed except in person. He’d never thought he would ever be in the Pentagon, but here he was.

  Aiden and Claire had stayed in Columbus for five more days. The woman had declared Claire recovered a day after her fever broke and had left accompanied by their heartfelt thanks. Most of the time was spent relaxing and watching TV. They ignored, for the most part, the elephant in the room. Claire had survived the sickness, but was she a werewolf now? On their last night, they had made love again, but it was a gentle, easy act, without real passion but with a depth of feeling.

  Three days after returning to Lejeune, he’d received more TAD orders, to Norm’s growing frustration. These were to the Pentagon. Norm asked what the orders were about, and Aiden claimed ignorance. It was the truth, though. He could guess, but he didn’t know. Norm said he was going to bring it up with the CO, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

  Keenan had called him that evening, telling him the orders were from his boss. Keenan would meet him, but other than that, he was out of the loop as to what his colonel knew.

  Aiden was nervous, but he craned his neck to take in everything he could. Keenan said they were early, so he took him to a cafeteria where he they had a late breakfast. The place was packed with military and civilians. At the next table, a two-star Marine general was sipping coffee while reading a book. Whatever Aiden had thought the Pentagon was like, this wasn’t it. It was like an underground mall, with a book store, a donut shop, even a flower shop!

  Keenan looked at his watch and told him they’d better get going. He followed the major back into the passageways, and after ten minutes, with Aiden totally lost, Keenan swiped his card at a door, above which read “Waste Management: Effluent.”

  Shit management? Aiden wondered.

  The door opened into a small group of three offices. Two people were manning desks in the outer office,
and a civilian was in a small side office, but Keenan took him to the back office. He rapped at the door, and after hearing an “Enter!” pushed it open.

  Aiden followed and entered a small office, but a typical one, with various “I Love Me” plaques and certificates hanging on the walls. The subject of those plaques, Aiden guessed, was the Army colonel standing up behind the lone desk.

  Aiden came to attention and stated, “Corporal Aiden Kaas, reporting as ordered, sir!”

  “At ease, Marine, at ease. Take a seat,” he said, indicating the two chairs against the wall. “And that will be all, Major,” he said to Keenan.

  Keenan seemed as if he wanted to object, but he said nothing and left the office.

  “Colonel Jack Tarniton, son. Good to finally meet you,” he said, coming from around the desk, hand out to be shaken.

  Aiden took the proffered hand, and as the colonel sat down on the front edge of his desk, he took the seat, sitting on the edge in the “sitting position of attention.”

  “Relax, son, you’re not in any trouble. I’m here to help you.”

  “Sir?”

  “Son, Aiden—can I call you Aiden?” he said, then proceeding before Aiden could respond. “It has come to our attention, to my attention, that you have been the target of foreign aggression.”

  What?

  “The assault on your mother, and more recently, in Hawaii, were the acts of a foreign interest.”

  “Sir? You know about all of that? Who did that?” he asked excitedly.

  “As to who, we’re not quite sure. I think the Russians, myself. And we didn’t know the reason for this. I mean, no disrespect intended, but why target a Marine corporal? I sent Major Ward to watch over you, to protect you while we investigated it. And at last we found out.”

  Found out what? What do you know?

  “We know what you are. As hard as it is to believe, you are a werewolf,” the colonel said with a sense of satisfaction.

  “Sir? I mean, that’s crazy!”

  “Ah, keeping it close to the vest. Smart move, young man, considering. But you see, Aiden—I asked if I could call you that, right? You see, we intercepted a transmission a couple of weeks back, when you were in Hawaii. It was encrypted, and we only managed to crack the encryption a couple of days ago. Do you want to see what we saw?”

  With his heart pounding, he said “Yes, sir.”

  The colonel picked up a laptop, a thumb drive sticking out of a USB port. He clicked on the mousepad a few times, and then turned the laptop around so Aiden could see it.

  The video was dark, and things were hard to make out. The tinny words, though, brought it into focus:

  “Hey, haole. How ’bout you give us your wallet, yeah?”

  The video was bouncing around, but he could clearly see himself, trying to get in front of Claire. There was no question about that.

  “Look, we don’t want any trouble,” his voice sounded.

  The scene played out, the give and take, until the leader said, “Oh, you like beef? I think it’s time to kick your man’s okole. You ready to give um, little man?”

  The next few scenes were rushed as the leader charged Aiden, knocking him to the ground. The camera, which had to have been on the leader, was not the best, and there were flashes of fists and Aiden’s face. The scene heaved, and Aiden was back in focus. Suddenly, the ground flashed up.

  That’s my Claire punching the shit out of him, he thought with pride.

  Then there was Claire’s scream, followed by a roar, a roar that Aiden knew was him. The camera jerked as the man tried to get to his feet, and there were flashes that Aiden knew were of him killing the other two men. It wasn’t clear, however, and Aiden still hoped he could explain it away. But when Aiden marched up to the man in all his varg power, there was no doubt about it. He was a werewolf

  “Who sent you?” his guttural words reached out from the laptop.

  “Someone bigger than you,” the man said. “And now I know why.”

  The camera was aimed at Aiden’s chest as he squeezed the life out of the man. The scene was vivid and clear. When he dropped the man, the camera was mercifully turned towards the dirt. But there was one more piece of damning evidence.

  It was his, “Claire, it’s me. Aiden!”

  “There’s more there,” the colonel said, but it’s of you and your girlfriend putting the bodies in the trunk, of taking them out and dumping them in the surf. But as you can see, we know now why they are after you. They cannot allow the United States to have a werewolf in its armed forces. Imagine what that would mean!”

  “Am I in trouble, sir?”

  “Trouble? Good God, no. Why would you be in trouble?”

  “I killed those three men,” he said.

  “You killed three enemy agents, son. You were doing your duty to keep America safe. I would have been disappointed in you if you hadn’t killed those scum. You would be no use to me if you’d turned coward.”

  No use to him? What is he getting at?

  “Sir, what do you mean?” he asked.

  “Our enemies want to eliminate you as a threat. Why? Because they know you can be of great service to your country. They can’t allow that to happen. But the cowards that they are, they tried and get to you through your mother, through your girlfriend.”

  “So what do you want me to do, sir?” Aiden asked.

  “Fight the bastards! Don’t let them threaten you! Don’t let them threaten your loved ones. Don’t let them threaten your country for God’s sake!”

  If they were going to threaten his family, then Aiden had to do something. But just who were “they?” What the colonel was saying made sense. If the colonel wanted, he could just lock him up and throw away the key. He seemed earnest enough, though, wanting his cooperation, not trying to force it.

  But what had Keenan said about all of this? He said something about it being higher ups in the US military who were behind all the crap going on. Maybe he hadn’t been brought on board, though, with all the details.

  Aiden had sworn an oath as a Marine to “support and defend the Constitution of the United States,” and to “obey the orders of those officers appointed over him.” Wasn’t it his duty to do just that?

  He knew that Hozan would not agree to the direction the colonel was going. The Tribe did not get involved in the affairs of men. But hadn’t Hozan himself fought in the Peshmerga Army? What was that if not getting involved?

  “Are you a patriot?” the colonel asked.

  “Of course I am, sir,” Aiden burst out saying without even thinking about the answer.

  He was a Marine, and all Marines loved their country.

  “OK, then. That should be it. If you are a patriot, you will do your duty. And I shouldn’t have to add, I will be doing everything to protect your mother and girlfriend. You won’t have to worry about that.

  “I do need one thing first. I showed you the transmission we intercepted. But I need to ask you, one military man to another, are you a werewolf?”

  Aiden hesitated. It had been drilled into him that he needed to keep that secret. But the man had a recording, and he was a full-bird colonel. He couldn’t lie to him.

  “Yes, sir.”

  The colonel seemed to relax, and then he said, “I believe you, but for my own sake, I want to see it before I commit myself to your cause, to put my resources to work for you. Can you change yourself for me?”

  Again Aiden hesitated. He wasn’t sure why, though. He’d just admitted it. He made up his mind.

  “I need to take off my uniform,” he said.

  He stood up, then slowly stripped down to his boxers. It was pretty surreal, here in the Pentagon, down to his boxers in front of a bird colonel. The colonel was looking at him expectantly, so without any more hesitation, he turned his mental switch and shifted.

  The colonel took an involuntary step back as he looked up at the varg standing before him.

  “Holy shit, it’s true,” he said, astonished. “I me
an, I knew it was, but seeing you—holy shit!”

  Epilogue

  The colonel looked through the one-way mirror at the sleeping Kaas. He was elated, no question about it. He’d known Kaas was a werewolf, but when the kid transformed himself, right in the office, he’d about shit himself. He, Colonel Jack Tarniton, three times passed over for his star, had uncovered the ultimate soldier. And now that soldier belonged to him, not only willing, but anxious to do his bidding.

  After Kaas had shifted back, he’d gotten the kid to sign a non-disclosure document. He’d pulled it off the Internet, added some heavy-sounding sentences, and printed it up. It wasn’t worth squat, but he was sure Kaas didn’t know that and would have been impressed by its importance. The colonel wanted secrecy, and the document, along with some BS he’d thrown at him, should do the trick.

  The kid was susceptible to BS, that was for sure. He’d bought the Russian angle hook, line, and sinker. He wondered if Kaas even noticed when he’d shifted the conversation from what Kaas could do for him to what he could do to help Kaas. He had remembered that trick from a business class he’d taken in school. If he could get a person to assume ownership of an idea or concept, he could get a more dedicated worker, or in this case, a soldier.

  He’d escorted Kaas out of the office, much to the consternation of that prick, Ward. The major was up to something, that was for certain. He’d played out some little game the week before, going down to Ft. Benning, and the colonel had not gotten to the bottom of it yet, but he would. If it weren’t for the fact that the major was now probably a werewolf, too, the guy would be out of the Army on his one-legged ass.

  The major didn’t know about the holding rooms in the depths of the Pentagon. The colonel had escorted Aiden to one of them, telling him they needed to go through some tests before they could decide what they could do to help him. The colonel actually had conducted some tests, such as strength and mobility. The werewolf Kaas was very, very strong. His dexterity was a disappointment, though, and the colonel realized he might have to modify some of the ideas he’d had for weapons for a werewolf task force. He looked forward to taking Kaas out for field trials.