He’d do everything in his power to keep them safe, no matter what it took, whether he had to move against the Council or the US Army.
Chapter 7
Keenan slipped into the Office of Waste Management: Effluent at 0848, a good two hours after he normally showed up. To his relief, Tarnation, as some called his boss, was not standing by the door waiting for him.
“The boss out at a meeting?” he asked Areetha, their receptionist-slash-secretary-slash-office manager.
“Not been in,” she responded, not looking up from where she was typing away on her keyboard? “I haven’t seen him none since Tuesday when I left.”
“Tuesday? But he was here yesterday. He got sick and took a nap.”
“You sure? I didn’t see him none all day. I buzzed him when I got in, too, to see if he still wanted Corporal Kaas to go to the freefall school at Yuma. He didn’t answer, so I just sent out the message.”
“What time did you get in?”
“Oh, you know me, Major. Zero-eight-hundred sharp, and not a minute earlier or later.”
Areetha was civil service, and she’d fought this battle with the colonel long before Keenan had come aboard. Her contract said her hours were 0800 until 1630, and that was when she’d be in the office. Other civilians, such as Bret Seagal, had folded under pressure, but Areetha had stood up to the colonel. Bret had told Keenan that the colonel, incensed at her refusal, had tried to find grounds to get her fired, but the woman’s work was impeccable, and the colonel had finally bowed to the inevitable and had given up the field of battle. She actually arrived at the Pentagon earlier each day due to her carpool, and Keenan had seen her shortly after seven a few times in the cafeteria with a cup of coffee, but she was not going to come to the office until her contracted time.
“And he was gone when you arrived?”
“I guess so. I paged him, and he didn’t answer. But you know him, with all his ‘Top Secret’ meetings,” she said, using his fingers to air-quote “Top Secret.”
Keenan felt a wave of uneasiness sweep over him. The colonel had felt sick, and he’d asked to reschedule their meeting.
What if he had a heart attack?
“I’m going to check his office,” he told Areetha.
For the first time, Areetha looked concerned. “Do you think you need to? You know how he is about his office.”
Keenan nodded, then turned to the colonel’s door. He knocked lightly, and then when there was no answer, he knocked again, louder.
Areetha came up to stand beside him. Keenan looked at her, then with a shrug, pushed open the door.
The room was dark, and a vile smell almost made the two gag. Keenan hastily turned on the light.
Colonel Jack Tarnition was half on the couch, his legs having slid off. Keenan immediately thought heart attack as he rushed to the colonel’s side, afraid of what he was going to find.
The colonel was alive, though, but unconscious.
“Get the EMT’s here now!” he shouted, but Areetha had already grabbed the phone and was making the call.
He reached over and felt the colonel’s forehead.
He’s burning up! he thought.
Keenan lifted his boss’ legs back on the couch and slid his uniform blouse off. Areetha pushed the major out of the way and put a wet towel on the colonel’s forehead. Keenan didn’t know how much good it would do, but it couldn’t hurt.
It was a long four or five minutes, but the EMTs arrived and pounded on the outer door, which got everyone’s attention. Heads peeked out of the other side offices as the EMT’s brought their stretched into the colonel’s office.
“What’s up?” Bret asked Keenan.
“It’s the boss. He’s been sick in his office since yesterday, and no one noticed.”
“Yesterday? But I . . . I mean, I called him, but I thought he was at his meetings or something,” Bret said, his Adam’s Apple bobbing up and down.
Keenan ignored Bret, more attentive to the EMTs who were in full emergency mode. Within moments, the colonel was hooked up to an IV and was being wheeled out.
“Does he have family who need to be notified?” one of the EMTs asked.
“No direct family,” Areetha answered. “His next of kin is his sister in Wisconsin.”
“You might want to get her notified we’re taking him to Bethesda. He’s in pretty bad shape.”
“Bethesda?” Keenan asked automatically. “Not Walter Reed?”
“BRAC[108] closing. Services are being transferred, and he needs Bethesda.”
Keenan felt an odd sense of loss. He’d been treated at Walter Reed Army Medical Center when he’d lost his leg, and while he’d suffered there, it had grown on him. He knew the scandals at the hospital that had cost two generals their jobs and had resulted in its closing and mission being absorbed by the Bethesda Naval Hospital, but he hadn’t realized the shutdown had already started.
“I’m following you,” Keenan shouted out as the three EMTs wheeled the colonel out.
“Call his sister,” he told Areetha as he left the office.
DC rush hour traffic being what it was, it took him longer than an hour to make his way to the huge naval medical center on Wisconsin Avenue. He found parking in the garage behind the main hospital, then spent 20 more minutes trying to track down where they’d taken the colonel. When he found him, he was told to sit and wait.
Areetha called him to tell him the colonel’s sister was not coming. She had told Areetha to call back in case her brother died and she’d take care of his estate.
It was two more hours before a rather young looking woman came into the waiting room and asked for him.
“I’m Ensign Yee,” she told him solemnly before she seemed to notice that Keenan was African American while the colonel was decidedly not. “Uh, are you family?”
“No, Colonel Tarnition is my boss. I was the one who found him.”
“I . . . I, uh, I think I can only talk to family,” the ensign said, looking back into the ward as if seeking help. “I’m only a med student as USUHS,[109] sir. I’m on rotation here. I think I need to get a doctor.”
“Look, Ensign Yee. He only has a sister, and she’s not interested. And you need to know, Colonel Tarnition is working on a very classified project, and I need to report back to the chief of staff on his condition.”
Which was pretty much BS. Keenan still didn’t know just to whom the colonel actually reported. But if he could cow the med student into telling him something, that was better than waiting to see if a real doctor would tell him anything.
“The chief of staff. Like a general?” the flustered young woman asked.
“That’s generally who would be the chief of staff,” Keenan said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.
Ensign Yee kept glancing back at the ward.
“I need to know what to tell the chief, Ensign,” he prompted.
“Well, I guess . . . I mean if there’s no family, and if . . . well, sir, Colonel Tarnition is running a fever of 108, and it looks as if he’s been like this since yesterday. We’re running tests to find out the cause of the fever, but now we’re treating him with ice baths and IVs to bring his temperature down. Do you know if he’s been exposed to any diseases? Has he been traveling?” she asked. “I mean, not the classified things. I’m don’t have clearance yet.”
“A fever? With no obvious cause?” he asked.
“Yes, sir. Do you know what it can be? I mean, if we know the cause, we might be able to save him.”
“Is it that serious?” Keenan asked, knowing the answer.
“Yes, sir. Right now, we don’t think he’s going to make it.”
“Let me get back to the office, and I’ll call you. Is there a number here to the ward?”
“Yes, sir,” she said, handing him a piece of paper from her clipboard. “If you hear anything, if you can tell us anything, it might be what we need to save your colonel’s life.”
Keenan was already on his way out. He
was pretty sure he knew what was wrong with the colonel, and he was going to find out just what was going on.
Chapter 8
Five-and-a-half hours and a speeding ticket received just north of Richmond later, Keenan was pulling into Fort Bragg. He’d called Aiden every few minutes after reaching the North Carolina border, and Aiden had finally answered just as Keenan pulled into Fayetteville. He he’d been working out at the Frederick Physical Fitness Center, and Keenan told him to wait there for him.
Aiden was standing outside the main entrance of the gym and said “What’s doing, Major?” as Keenan walked up to him.
“Come with me, Corporal,” Keenan said.
The two men had started calling each other by their first names, but in public, they made an effort to keep military decorum.
As they walked behind the gym, Keenan suddenly wheeled and grabbed Aiden by the shirt collar, pushing him up against the side of the gym.
“What the hell’s going on, Kaas! Why did you bite Colonel Tarnition?” he asked, his voice hard but quiet enough not to carry.
“What?” was all Aiden could get out.
“Colonel Tarnition. Why did you bite him? The man’s poison, and he wants to use you!”
“I didn’t bite him,” Aiden protested. “And he’s not using me! He’s protecting me.”
Aiden was a fully-developed werewolf and Keenan’s patron. Keenan had not come to his full potential, but such was his anger that Aiden was backing down.
“He is using you. He’s not protecting you. You’re just a pawn to him.”
“No, you’re wrong. He’s helping me with the agents, the Russians, I think, by protecting my mom. They’re the ones who attacked her, you know.”
Keenan looked deeply into the young man’s eyes, wondering if he should come clean. Part of him was afraid of opening Pandora’s Box.
He has to know.
Kennan took a deep breath before saying, “He was the one who ordered the attack on your mother. It wasn’t a random burglary. He planned it so I could step in and offer you help. To gain your trust.”
Aiden suddenly went deathly still. If he’d been backing down before Keenan, that was over.
“And were you in on it?” he asked with piercing intensity.
Keenan had never heard death in a person’s voice until that very minute. He let go of Aiden’s collar and stepped back, saying, “No, not at all. I knew nothing about it. He even denied it to me, but I know it was him.”
Aiden stared deep into Keenan’s eyes for a moment, and Keenan felt guilty as if he’d planned it all instead of the colonel.
I didn’t know it, he told himself. I wasn’t part of it!
Aiden must have believed him. He stepped back, and the feeling of mortal danger faded. Keenan let out a sigh of relief. No overt threat was made, but he knew he’d been close to bearing the brunt of Aiden Kaas’ anger.
“And why do you think I bit him?” Aiden asked coldly.
“Because he’s at Bethesda now, with a fever, the same as I had, the same as Claire had. The doctors don’t know what’s causing it, and they don’t think he’s going to make it.”
Aiden seemed to consider that for a moment before shaking his head and saying, “No, I never bit him. I’m sure of it. It’s got to be something else. There’re other diseases out there, you know.”
He seemed to be trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince Keenan.
Keenan believed Aiden, but he was also sure the colonel had the “sickness.” Somehow, the slimy bastard had managed to get himself infected, with or without Aiden’s help.
“If you’re right, though, if he had anything to do with messing with my mom, he’s going to wish whatever he’s got takes him peacefully in his sleep.”
With that, the young Marine turned and walked back towards the front of the gym, emanating something dark and dangerous. Keenan let him go. He liked the kid, he cared for him. But right now, Aiden frightened him.
Aiden may not have knowingly infected the colonel, but that didn’t change the ground truth. The colonel was going through transformation, and he most likely wouldn’t make it. And that was probably a good thing, all things considered. If he lived, Aiden would confront him, and the fool colonel would probably admit it, maybe stressing that Aiden’s mother was never in any real danger. The idiot was so full of self-righteousness that he’d think that Aiden would understand the tactic as a necessary one. And if Aiden did exact his brand of punishment on the colonel, all hell would break loose. The entire project could be exposed, and that meant Aiden, Claire, and he would lose any semblance of freedom. At best, they’d all become slaves to the inevitable control of the government. At worst, Aiden would be convicted of murder and executed.
No, it was better if the colonel succumbed to his “mystery” disease. His mind made up, Keenan took a deep breath and walked to his car. He’d stay overnight here at Bragg, check in with Hozan maybe, and let him know what had happened. He’d come to trust the old Kurdish fighter, and he relied on the man for advice.
He unlocked his dark green Jag and sat down on the tan leather seats. Normally, the car could simply lift his spirits just by being in it. After getting discharged from Walter Reed, he’d wanted something flashier, something more powerful, but most of those cars were manual, and with his new prosthetic leg, that was pushing it. He’d settled on a two-year-old Jaguar, but he’d quickly come to love the sexy beast. It was his one extravagance in life.
Now, though, it did nothing for him. He knew letting the colonel die was best for everyone. It was logical.
But Keenan was not always logical. His moral compass had a way of making itself known, of inserting itself into every decision-making process.
Colonel Jack Tarnition was a flaming, egotistical asshole, no doubt about it. He was a danger to Aiden, and he was a potential danger to both Claire and him. But he was a fellow soldier and Keenan’s senior officer.
With his conscience chirping in his ear, Keenan knew what he had to do. He held out for five minutes, trying to convince himself to do what he knew was best, but it was no use.
With a sigh, he pulled the paper the young med student had given him out of his pocket. He dialed the number, and when a nurse answered, he simply said, “Don’t ask questions. Get Colonel Tarnition on hemodialysis now.”
He heard a “Who is this?” as he took the phone from his ear and cut the connection. He’d given the colonel a fighting chance. The docs at Bethesda might have tried that treatment on their own, but something told him that unless it was done now, it would be too late.
Keenan just hoped that his decision wouldn’t turn around and bite all of them in the ass.
Chapter 9
Hozan eased back into his brown (“driftwood,” the salesman called it) La-Z-Boy recliner. As far as he was concerned, the recliner was just about the best thing to come out of America, but for now, his thoughts were on the disturbing news that Keenan Ward had just brought to him. Kennan was sitting on the sofa, waiting for Hozan to come up with a brilliant solution. The problem was, Hozan didn’t have a solution.
His headstrong protégé was at it again, and this time, the Council would not be able to gloss over what had happened. Keenan said he thought Aiden was telling the truth, but if this colonel was in fact turned, then it had to be the young cub. Aiden hadn’t lied to him before, but what other answer was there?
It was possible that the Army colonel was suffering from another disease, but Hozan doubted it. He could travel up to Washington DC, and if he got close enough to the man, he would be able to tell. But Keenan had thought that might be too difficult and risky a venture.
And now, there was the added problem of Keenan telling Aiden that the colonel had staged the attack on Aiden’s mother.
In bits and pieces, Aiden had revealed to Hozan a rough and troubled childhood. The young man didn’t remember much about his father, and what he did remember seemed to center on the physical abuse the man dispensed on a re
gular basis. Aiden had not suffered much, but his mother had borne the brunt of the abuse. She had been hospitalized several times, Aiden remembered, the last time for broken facial and arm bones. A warrant had been issued for his father’s arrest, and the man had simply disappeared, never to be heard from again. Quite naturally, Aiden was very protective of his mother, and like many newly turned kreuzungs, he had not learned to control his temper yet.
None of them, including Hozan, could afford a rogue Aiden extracting revenge on the colonel. The Council would take action, and not even Nemir Muhmood would be able to do anything about it.
Hozan sighed. He was going to have to speak with the boy, stressing how any rash action would put all of them in deadly danger. He would stress what this would do to Claire, who could not even shift to try and protect herself.
“OK, this is bad, true. But all hope is not gone. Let me talk to Aiden. He has to understand our situation. He is young and headstrong, but he is not stupid. Wait here for me.”
“Do you think you can reach him?” Keenan asked.
“I think so. Let me try.”
Hozan flipped the lever on the side of the chair, bringing it upright so he could stand. He walked out the door and down to the couple’s apartment. He could hear Aiden’s raised voice through the closed door, telling Claire he had to go to Bethesda, and Claire telling him to calm down, to think things through.
Hozan knocked on the door. Yes, he’d “reach” Aiden, even if he had to shift to his wolf form and take him by the scruff of the neck and shake some sense into him. Aiden would listen, and he would not go off on some sort of berserker revenge mission. He—they—could not afford that.
Chapter 10
“Is the cat still alive, then?” Aiden asked Claire over the phone.
“It was a pretty close call,” Claire said. “But the vet said he’s recovering.”
The Werewolf of Marines Trilogy Page 45