If the shitbird Kaas could become so effective, then how much stronger would the colonel become, how much more powerful given that he was starting with so many personal advantages? And once he’d taken all the knowledge he could from Kaas, well, maybe it would be time for the Marine to disappear, him and that one-legged Ward. The colonel knew he’d need more than just himself if he wanted to form his special unit, but how much better would it be if he was the patron, not Kaas? How much better would it be if he selected those who he’d turn, men whose loyalty to him personally was unquestioned?
The colonel leaned closer to the mirror and opened his mouth wide, trying to imagine how he’d look with fangs instead of teeth.
Yes, he was ready for his first shift, and the sooner the better. The country was going to be grateful it had Colonel Jack Tarnition doing what had to be done to keep the people safe.
Chapter 3
Aiden knocked on the door of number 206, Lake in the Pines Apartments. This was his home, at least temporarily, but this was the first time he’d actually seen the place. Claire had rented the apartment and gotten them moved in while Aiden was up in DC and Columbia. Major Ward had given him the address after his debrief with the colonel, and after the five-hour drive in the rented Ford Fusion—on the government’s dime, thank goodness—and after only getting lost twice, he’d driven into the Swiss chalet-looking complex.
“Just a second!” Claire’s voice called out from inside the apartment.
He felt nervous for some reason, as he waited for Claire to let him in. They really hadn’t had much time together since Claire recovered from her transformation, and he knew she’d be brimming with questions and be anxious to shift for the first time. More than that, though, was that with this apartment, with them officially living together, Aiden’s life had commenced on a new path. He was getting married soon.
He took a deep breath, and the piney-earthy smell helped calm him down. It was a far cry from Vegas or Iraq, but not much different from Lejeune.
Ft Bragg was the home to the Army’s 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment, better known as Delta Force. Aiden didn’t know why he had to be assigned to an Army unit, but COL Tarnition had abruptly cut him off when he’s suggested that he and Claire could stay with MARSOC[105] at Lejeune, telling him that JSOC, or the Joint Special Operations Command, also commanded the SMUs, or Special Operations Units of yet another alphabet unit, USSOCOM, or the U.S. Special Operations Command, of which Delta Force was a part. All the acronyms made Aiden’s head ache, but the bottom line was that JSOC, made up of Delta Force, SEAL Team 6, and the Air Force’s 24th Special Tactics Squadron, acted pretty much in secrecy, and no one would blink at a single Marine who had his own missions. People might wonder what his mission might be, but they would never ask questions.
Claire had been assigned to the small Marine detachment that coordinated Marine unit training at some of Bragg’s facilities, such as their massive combat town and artillery ranges, as well as individuals attending schools such as the Civil Affairs and freefall jumpmaster courses. During one of their first discussions, COL Tarnition had bluntly asked Aiden if Claire knew about his werewolf abilities. Aiden might not be a rocket scientist, but he could imagine Claire getting stationed in bumfuck Alaska if he told the colonel she knew, and he needed her—and she needed him. So he lied. To his surprise, the colonel had bought it and even agreed to get her assigned to Bragg with him. Of course, Major Ward knew everything about Claire, and Aiden thought the major might have greased the skids for him. He’d also assured Aiden that he would help get her moved in and find a job for Hozan as well.
The four of them had become their own little pack, but only Hozan understood what it really meant to be a member of the Tribe, and if Aiden was going to use his abilities on missions, he needed his Kurdish mentor to guide him. Aiden knew Hozan would be adamantly against his new job as part of COL Tarnition’s special unit, but he hoped he could convince Hozan to help him navigate the Tribe’s politics. It wasn’t just him, however. Claire and Major Ward needed guidance, too.
Finally, the door to the apartment opened, and Claire, in a T and shorts and with a bit of what looked to be whipped cream on the corner of her mouth, opened the door. She looked up in surprise.
“Aiden! Why didn’t you call me?” she asked before launching herself at him, almost knocking him backwards and down the stairs.
Claire was not overweight, but she was a solid girl, very fit, and she squeezed Aiden for all she was worth. She kept Aiden from answering, however, by planting a fierce kiss on his lips.
“Really,” she said as they both came up for air. “I thought you were coming on Friday. I’d have fixed myself up if I’d known and fixed you something for dinner.”
Claire looked fine to him, the shorts showing off her rather nice butt, he thought. He didn’t need her all made up.
“Dinner?” he asked with a smile. “Seems to me that you’ve already had dessert.”
He made an exaggerated show of trying to taste the smear of cream that had transferred to his face when they’d kissed. “Key lime?”
She laughed, something that still thrilled Aiden every time he heard her.
“Best thing to come out of Florida,” she admitted. “And the commissary here carries it. You should see it; it carries everything! But why didn’t you call me?”
“No phone. You’ve got it with you, and you took all our things when you left the hotel in Arlington.”
“There’s a little thing like land lines,” she protested.
“Uh, can we go inside, Claire? We’re kinda being exhibitionists out here.”
She reached down and grabbed the front of his blue jeans, right at the belt buckle. Like leading a horse, she pulled him into the apartment and into the bedroom, pushing him to the bed.
“I’ve been sleeping on the couch since I moved in. I wanted us to dedicate the bed together.”
Which was fine with him.
Chapter 4
Major Keenan Ward tried to keep an even temper as he looked at his boss. He’d learned that when the colonel called him or Bret Seagal, his civilian second-in-command, to the office, he didn’t want opinions but rather confirmation of what he’d already decided.
And what he’s decided is going to get Aiden killed, he thought. It’s a wonder he hasn’t designed some sort of Captain America outfit for Aiden to wear.
The colonel had not shared with him the recording of Aiden’s mission to Columbia, but he had said it was a “rousing success.” And now he was waxing on and on about upcoming missions, missions that Keenan thought were pushing the envelope. The colonel evidently thought of Aiden as some sort of super-hero, ready to take on all the evil in the world while waving the red, white, and blue.
That was all well and good in theory, but they weren’t working in a vacuum. Aside from how the Russians or Chinese would react if—and that would be when, not if—the colonel’s plans ever came to be, there was still the Tribe to consider. Keenan knew he had to run interference with the colonel, but he wasn’t sure just how to do that without revealing to him that he too was a werewolf, a kreuzung. And that was something he just wasn’t about to do.
As far as Keenan knew for sure, only the colonel and he knew what Aiden Kaas was. But there could be others. The colonel’s boss, whoever that was, could know. Someone was giving the colonel a free hand in sending Aiden to Columbia and now getting him assigned to the JSOC headquarters at Bragg. And if any of the colonel’s plans, about which he was still droning, were really in the pipeline, they were far above an O6’s[106] paygrade.
Keenan surreptitiously looked at his watch. It was 0719, and the colonel had been on a roll since Keenan had arrived at their office deep within the Pentagon. Ever since the colonel had found out about Aiden, Keenan’s job had become more of a facilitator, someone to run errands to make things smooth for the corporal and his fiancé. He should be disgusted with his job, and on one hand, he was. That was tempered by the fact that he’d just been sele
cted for promotion to lieutenant colonel and would be frocked[107] any day now, but more than that, there was something going on there that he didn’t quite understand. He actually wanted to help Aiden, to make the young Marine happy. He thought it might have to do with Aiden being his patron. There wasn’t much online about relationships in a werewolf pack, obviously enough, but he had looked up wolf hierarchies within a pack, and each pack had an alpha. The intellectual side of him realized that “alphaness,” or perhaps the entire patron concept, had to be clouding his feelings. The emotional side of him, though, didn’t care. He was still his own man, but something drove him to, well, serve Aiden.
An Army lieutenant colonel-select serving a Marine corporal. Sounds about right, he thought to himself wryly.
And now, Aiden should be about to report in to his new command. Keenan looked back up to the colonel, wondering how much longer the man would be talking. Keenan had already contacted the Marine captain who would be purportedly Aiden’s supervisor a number of times, but once more wouldn’t hurt. Aiden was to be left alone, and the captain and his staff were only there to support Aiden as needed.
Keenan suddenly noticed that COL Tarnition had stopped talking. He looked up, putting an expression of rapt attention on his face.
Hell, what’s wrong with him?
“Sir, are you OK?” he asked his boss.
Colonel Tarnition had gone pale and was breathing heavily. For a moment, he seemed to struggle to talk, but he managed to respond.
“Wow! Just a bit nausea. I must have eaten something bad.”
“You don’t look too good, sir.”
“Don’t feel good. I’m sure it’ll pass, but let’s continue a little later, if you don’t mind.”
“Do you want me to call someone?” Keenan asked, surprised that he actually felt concern for the man he pretty much despised.
“Don’t be such a pussy, Ward. I’m fine. Just let me lay down on the couch for a few minutes. Corporal Kaas is reporting in this morning, right? Make sure that goes OK.”
Since that was exactly what Keenan had wanted to do, that was fine with him. He stood up and started to leave the office.
“Turn off the lights,” the colonel shouted after him as he staggered to the couch to lay down.
Keenan flipped the switch, leaving the colonel in the dark.
Chapter 5
Aiden pulled into the parking space and shut off the 1996 Saturn he’d just bought. Only the car didn’t want to die and hung on for a few moments, coughing and sputtering. It was a far cry from the Ford he’d rented in DC, but that car had been turned in that morning after he’d checked in. With Claire and him on different schedules, they both needed a car, and with both being corporals and on corporals’ salaries, a new car was out of the question. Sergeant Uribe, who’d checked him in, had a line on the car, and after agreeing to $1,100 with the previous owner, Aiden was mobile.
With a final sputter, the Saturn died. The door creaked as Aiden got out, but the Army specialist had assured him that it was fundamentally sound. The “fundamentally” part of that had given Aiden pause, but for $1,100, beggars couldn’t be choosers.
He climbed the steps to the second floor and almost knocked on the door, then smiled as he pulled out the key. This was their home, not just Claire’s, and he didn’t have to ask for permission to enter.
“I’m home!” he announced as he stepped through the door, rather liking the sound of that.
“I can see that,” Hozan said from the couch.
“Hozan!” Aiden said. “Are you here now?”
“I am where I am, and that is here, yes.”
“I mean in Fayetteville. Major Ward, I mean Keenan, said he was going to get you a job here.”
“Yes, Keenan has gotten me a job with a contractor, where I am a staff advisor. Except I do nothing. I am superfluous,” he said, only hesitating slightly on what was obviously a new word just added to his vocabulary. “He too got me a flat here. I am your neighbor, in number 202.”
“That’s great, Hozan. So you can help with, you know, Claire? When her time comes?”
“If it comes, cub. Just because Keenan was able to shift does not mean Claire will. But yes, I will assist with her and Keenan. It is not their fault that you turned them.”
I didn’t turn Claire, he wanted to shout. She did it herself.
But Hozan was right about MAJ Ward. Aiden had taken it upon himself to infect him in an attempt to save his life, and attempt that had succeeded.
“You, though, I thought I had taught you better. Keenan told me about your mission in Columbia. Why are you asking for the trouble that will fall on your head? You cannot use your varg for the politics of man!”
“But you fought with the Peshmergas!” Aiden protested.
“As a human! Never as a varg or lycan. And you seem to forget that the Council will be forced to take action when they find out.”
“If they find out.”
“When. Not if. What will you do then, cub?”
Aiden was saved from answering when the door opened and Claire, still in her uniform and carrying a two grocery bags came in.
“Oh, you beat me home. I stopped at Food Lion to get something for dinner. And I gave Hozan a key, if you don’t mind.” She paused a moment, looking at the two men. “Are you two alright? Is something wrong?”
“No, we are just hobnobbing,” Hozan said.
“Hobnobbing?” Claire asked with a laugh.
Hozan had amazing language skills, but sometimes, Aiden didn’t know where he picked up certain words or phrases.
“How about you two ‘hobnobbing’ over here and helping me cook dinner,” she said, setting the groceries on the dining table.
Aiden didn’t catch Hozan’s eyes as he moved to help, thankful for the interruption. He’d knew he’d have it out with Hozan later, but not now.
“Cooking” was somewhat of an ambitious turn of phrase. Claire had bought a roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, and gravy. The only heating to be done was to put some frozen peas in the microwave for 45 seconds.
Still, it the meal tasted good, and given Claire’s skill—or lack thereof—in cooking, Food Lion was probably a good choice. Claire was a remarkable woman with many talents. Cooking just wasn’t one of them (not that Aiden was any better).
The best thing about the meal is that it got Hozan off his ass for the moment. Hozan wasn’t his patron, but he was more than just a friend. He’d become a father-figure to the young corporal, and Aiden didn’t want to disappoint him.
Chapter 6
Hozan eased out a burp. Kurds considered burping as a polite way of letting the host know the meal was appreciated, but he’d been around foreigners enough to know that not everyone have the same sense of decorum. Still, 85 years of habit were hard to break, and by easing it out, he felt he’d fulfilled his duties to his culture without causing a reaction from his hosts.
It wasn’t actually that the food was that good. He’d only been in the US for a month, and his initial observation was that Americans preferred to buy prepared food, something the average Kurd would think was only for emergencies and never to feed guests. The chicken from the store wasn’t bad, and Hozan knew it would make a fine biryani, or better yet, a shish tawook. The potatoes and sauce—gravy—though, were not something for which he’d developed a liking. He’d served it to the Americans in the cafeterias in Iraq and Afghanistan, but it wasn’t for him. Most of the American food wasn’t for him, and now that he had a flat—an apartment, as they called it in America—in which he could cook, he had to ask Keenan to help him get the ingredients necessary to cook real food.
Aiden and Claire seemed happy enough, though. They had devoured the food like untrained cubs, their voracious appetites overruling their sense of taste. Or so Hozan liked to think, even if he knew the Americans liked their different cuisines. Aiden did have the appetite typical of the Tribe, but Claire, while she had survived the transformation, had not shifted yet, and might never shi
ft. It was the shifting that triggered the need for raw calories.
She was going on about some music group, the best Hozan could tell. He understood the words, but not the context of what she was saying. As she spoke, she reached over and put her hand on Aiden’s, almost possessively. She was in love, it was evident. Part of that was the natural draw of a varg to her patron, but she had been like this before she’d taken it upon herself to become one of them.
Love was a powerful force, and Hozan wondered if it had been the catalyst that had allowed the girl to survive her transformation. It was almost unheard of that someone turned by a kreuzung survived, and now Aiden had two to his credit. Hozan knew that the modern medical treatment, this “hemodialysis,” had some effect on Keenan and Claire, but Hozan was old school, and he felt in his bones there was something else working here, something to do with Aiden himself.
Aiden was listening to his fiancé with rapt attention. Hozan felt a touch of sorrow seeing that. Not for the two youngsters, but for his own lost Narmin, for Zmnako and his little Roshna, all killed by Hussein and Chemical Ali during the attack on Halabja. He pushed his lost family out of his thoughts and back on Aiden and the problems he presented.
What am I going to do with you, cub? Hozan wondered.
The boy was brash and foolish. Many young were, but not too many had half of the Council wanting them exterminated. And now, he’d been talked into serving as a varg for the American Army? This wasn’t going to end well, Hozan knew. The Council was not going to stand for it. And now, it wasn’t just Aiden, but Claire and Keenan as well.
Hozan knew he should take firm steps with the boy, but something in him couldn’t. He had long realized that he’d transferred his feelings for his lost family to the stubborn youngster, and now it seemed as if the boy’s little tribe had grown. And Hozan liked the other two as well. The one-legged Keenan was as noble a man as Hozan had met, and Hozan saw a lot of his Roshna in Claire. Hozan knew his duty to the Council, to the Tribe. But he also knew he had to protect his new family, his new tribe.
The Werewolf of Marines Trilogy Page 44