Monkeying Around [Drunk Monkeys 10] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Tymber Dalton

  “What was your name again?” Tank asked.

  “I’m Doc,” he said. “Unit’s med officer. This is Clara. She’s helping with the research.”

  “Thanks. We appreciate you bringing us along.”

  Doc nodded. “No problem.”

  Now she had more faces paired to names, at least. She hadn’t had time in private to memorize all their dossiers yet. Never any time when she had the brain cells to devote to it when she could do it without risking someone looking over her shoulder.

  When it came time for them to load up, Tank immediately took the lead and noticed that not only did no one challenge her for the role, they all seemed to be waiting for her to go first. Apparently they were still in agreement that she was their leader.

  One battle won without a skirmish.

  The others also seemed to be giving Sylvan more than her usual fair share of dirty looks. Now that their loss was truly sinking in, everyone had connected the dots that Sylvan had brought the attack upon them that, ultimately, caused Gatsby and Connell’s deaths. And Sylvan dragging her heels while they tried to leave the hideout had also contributed to costing the men their lives.

  Inevitably, once they were all waiting just outside the Zeus, as soon as Sylvan spotted Alpha on the other side of the underground hangar, the girl tried to amble over to where the men were talking.

  Tank walked in front of her and stood there blocking her path, silently glaring until the girl turned around and rejoined their group.

  “We stay together,” Tank quietly said to all of them, but staring at Sylvan. “We’re still not out of the woods yet.”

  “Can’t we trust them?” Malyern asked, nodding toward the group of Drunk Monkeys and their associates on the other side of the underground hangar. “You know more about all of this than I do. Are we walking into a death trap, or are they who they say they are?”

  Tank glanced that way. “I hope to hell we can trust them, because we’d probably be dead already if we couldn’t. But do you really want to get separated and risk being wrong?”

  Everyone except Sylvan shook their heads.

  Sylvan just wore a sullen glare and stared at Tank.

  Tank wanted to haul her over her lap and spank her in the bad way, punishing a spoiled brat child.

  Sylvan had gotten into hacking by accident. Yes, naturally good at it—and not much else—she’d followed an ex-boyfriend into it. He’d dropped out of school and enlisted once TMFU hit, and she’d been bouncing around looking for a white-hat knight ever since.

  Tank had thought Gatsby might be wearing down under the girl’s persistent approaches, but then…

  Then.

  And…then.

  And now…life wasn’t the same and never would be again. People like Sylvan either adapted, clung to someone who could protect and care for them and would put up with their helplessness, or died.

  Tank played dirty. “You all have read the same stuff I have about the Drunk Monkeys. We haven’t seen any legit intel about them that would say we can’t trust them. We owe it to Gatsby and Connell to finish what we started.”

  She focused on Sylvan once more. “If you aren’t with us, let me know now. Because I’ll have them take you back to KC and leave you there and you can find your own damn way and do whatever the hell you want. The rest of us don’t want to waste our efforts just to have you act like an idiot. Again.”

  Everyone else, Tank was relieved to see, nodded at her ultimatum.

  “Fine,” Sylvan muttered.

  Tank stepped in close enough that Sylvan was forced to look up at her even though she was only an inch shorter than Tank. She lowered her voice so only Sylvan could hear her.

  “Do not fuck with me, girlie,” Tank said. “That’s a battle you absolutely will not win. We have a job to do, and we’re damn well going to do it. Get your head out of your goddamned ass.”

  Sylvan finally turned and went to sit on her duffel bag.

  Tank couldn’t help watching Alpha and Papa as they supervised the final loading of gear and personnel. An RV had been secured in the center of the plane’s cargo hold. Then she connected the mental dots about what Doc and Clara had meant earlier. Presumably, it was the mobile lab they’d used. And if it was a mobile Kite virus lab, yeah, they should have vaccinations.

  Smart thinking.

  She also couldn’t help noticing the other women in the unit, the ones who were obviously paired with men from the Drunk Monkeys.

  That could be me.

  Well, predicated on a lot of maybes in the process.

  It damn sure wouldn’t be Sylvan.

  In the back of her mind, Tank slowly started chiseling out the potential ways she could broach the subject with Papa and Alpha in private. Hopefully with Papa, because she suspected she was doing too good of a job pissing off Alpha at the moment.

  Couldn’t be helped. She had a mission to complete. If he couldn’t understand that once the truth was out…well, then it just wasn’t meant to be.

  Don’t count yourself out just yet, girlie.

  When Omega approached to direct the loading of their gear, Tank took a second to speak with him, low, so the other students couldn’t hear.

  “I need to talk to Bubba privately,” she whispered to him. “Can you please pass the word to the PTB so I can accomplish that after we land? My phone is useless now.”

  He nodded, his gaze narrowing again as he appraised her.

  Shit. Hopefully, just like the guy in the parking garage, he wouldn’t say anything in front of the students that might tip them off too soon.

  It was a risk she had to take. She didn’t dare use the sat-phone she had, because she didn’t know if anyone in regular military had picked up that signal. It was now useless and possibly compromised. She needed to see what her next orders were, what was going on…

  And pass word to please, somehow, get Connell and Gatsby’s remains taken care of and returned to her.

  If she was ever able to track down their families, she wanted to deliver them in person and apologize for not doing a better job keeping them safe.

  No, they weren’t military, but she still considered herself their CO.

  And a CO’s responsibility to make sure no one ever got left behind had been ingrained in her even before she made it into the military, courtesy of her mother and father.

  They were soon loaded onto the plane. Tank had to prompt all of them to get their cold weather gear ready then and put it on, not dig it out mid-flight. Tank had spent her fair share of time riding in the bellies of cargo birds, and they were rarely comfortable.

  But it’d be another chance to nap without worrying what was going on around her. Once they were assigned jump seats and an area to stay in, Tank enlisted a couple of the others in their group to make sure Sylvan stayed put. As they took off, Tank settled in for a nap and realized that her fellows weren’t going to be so blasé about the experience.

  Hell, some of them had probably never been in an airplane before.

  “Guys, try to get some sleep,” she said as she settled in on the floor, using her ruck as a pillow, once it was safe to leave her jump seat.

  “How can you be so damned calm?” Sylvan snapped, her tone even icier than the cabin’s chilly air.

  “Because not being calm gets people killed.” She stared up at Sylvan.

  Sure enough, the girl retreated and settled in for the flight.

  Now maybe I can get some more sleep.

  Tank set about trying to do just that.

  Chapter Six

  It was still dark when they landed at the Canadian base. Tank didn’t know for sure, but based on their flight time, she suspected they were at the secret RCAF base outside of Pilot Mound. She knew the officer in charge of the base was an old buddy of General Arliss.

  Then there was the fact that they had a massive medical research facility on-site.

  Logic, yo.

  The plane was moved into a large hangar before the doors were rolled shut b
ehind them and Papa addressed everyone inside the cargo cabin.

  “You know the drill, gentlemen. Base personnel is expecting us and will help us move in and show us to our quarters.”

  He faced Tank. “That goes for your group, too. Get some rest, some food, and by tomorrow morning at the latest, we’ll have your operation up and running again.”

  “Thank you.” She bit off the urge to follow that with a “sir” even though she knew she and Papa were the same rank.

  “For now, just hang tight out of the way. When they’re ready, they’ll get you directed where you need to go.”

  Tank got everyone moving. Even Sylvan, miracle of miracles, kept her mouth shut and followed directions.

  Once they’d exited the plane’s cargo hold, Tank picked a spot near the inner wall to stage their gear and await instructions. A couple of times Alpha passed close to their group, and Tank did her level best to shoot him stink-eye for cause, to warn him off.

  The last thing she wanted was him forming an attachment to Sylvan. Tank wasn’t ready to break cover yet, and despite her own desires she had to protect her mission.

  It was fucking cold here, though. With not some small measure of satisfaction, she noted that everyone in her group, despite their gear, was shivering their asses off in the hangar.

  Hell, she’d been camping in shit colder than this as a kid, much less survival training early in her military career, so she had to remember to keep that act up as well. Some of the Drunk Monkeys had stripped down to shirtsleeves during the unloading process, including Alpha.

  She liked that he was hands-on with his unit, helping, pitching in, not just barking orders. He didn’t strike her as an asshole.

  Papa had disappeared inside the base with personnel, probably to go speak to the commander, if she had to guess. The core scientist team from The List, whom she’d already ID’d in her mind despite their codenames, had also been shuttled into the base early on, along with the RV, which had been driven down a large ramp by one of the DMs in a full bunny suit.

  Finally, two of the base personnel approached Omega, who turned and pointed at Tank. They walked over to talk to them. Tank stood and remembered to keep her college kid persona firmly in place as she listened to them outline what was going to happen, remembering to ask questions where someone of her supposed experience, or lack thereof, wouldn’t know what they meant.

  Less than an hour later, their group was snugly set up in a barracks dorm quarters a little on the small side, but large enough for all of them. Definitely better accommodations than they’d had during their time on the run and in hiding. They’d been assigned a guard, who would accompany the group as a whole when they needed to go to chow. Once they were all issued IDs and fully debriefed, they’d be allowed to move freely in the common areas. Until then, they were asked to remain in quarters unless accompanied.

  She’d caught Sylvan looking at Alpha a couple of times while in the hangar, so it was time for a decisive hammer-nail moment while she still had everyone’s full and undivided attention.

  Tank grabbed Sylvan by the arm and made her look her in the eye. “Do you have any idea what these men are capable of?”

  Clueless.

  Sylvan slowly shook her head.

  “The attack on the CDC on Saturday? That’s where these guys were, testing out vaccines. These guys are SOTIF1 for a reason. Because every last one of them can kill and has killed. And if you think the women with them are pushovers, think again. Do you really think the first SOTIF team would allow anyone to stay with them who couldn’t keep up or hold their own? Shoot? Fight? Be ready to lay down their lives to help protect the mission and their teammates?”

  Everyone shook their heads. Sylvan finally did, too.

  “Look, they saved our lives. Yeah, I’m grateful, because we were absolutely fucked back there in KC, and I’m not too ashamed to admit it now. But don’t think if any of us crosses a line that they won’t hesitate to take us out.”

  She returned her focus to Sylvan. “Killing is what they do. They’re good at it. Good at it for a reason. They aren’t our friends. We might all be fighting a similar war here, but never forget that they are still holding all the cards.”

  “Why did they bring us with them?” Torphin asked. “How did you arrange this?”

  Another question Tank had hoped wouldn’t be asked, but for which she’d prepared an answer, just in case. “Not all the brass in the military are on the same page. The general in charge of SOTIF, he’s been around a lot of years. And remember, we never saw his name on any of the Barstow stuff. My guess is that my contact is hooked up with this group somehow. That guy, Ax? He’s going after Reverend Silo. I’d bet all this shit is connected. If they were going to kill us, they would have by now. But they’re going to let us do our thing. That means they want us helping them expose what’s going on.”

  Ellsen frowned and scratched at the stubble on his chin. “Shouldn’t we be suspicious then?”

  “Absolutely,” Tank agreed. “But we keep doing our thing. We’re in fricking Canada, now. Someone wants a Kite vaccine to be produced and distributed, and they want us exposing the truth.”

  “Shouldn’t we focus on that, then?” Torphin asked. “On the vaccine stuff?”

  “No, we need to make sure the butchers of Barstow are held accountable. LA. New York. All of that. That’s our primary goal. Once we do that, then we can change focus and start talking about the vaccine and what’s going on. All right?”

  Everyone finally nodded. She let go of Sylvan. “I’m sorry I’m being such a bitch, but I was raised in this life. I speak their language and I grok their rationales. I was happy following Gatsby, but he’s dead. If anyone else wants this job, raise your hand now, and I’ll hand it over to you.”

  No one did.

  She ticked off the points on her fingers as she spoke. “Keep us safe. Keep us alive. Expose the truth. Those are my goals. Are we all on the same page?”

  Everyone, including Sylvan, nodded.

  “Good. Now let’s get settled. We’ll probably be here for a while. Weeks, at least. Hopefully.”

  As they picked their racks, Tank didn’t miss how once again she ended up alone in a bottom bunk with no one taking the top.

  Not that she was complaining.

  She selected the one closest to the door and got her stuff situated. After they all hit the chow hall for breakfast and their escort showed them where the laundry facilities were located in their little section, Tank settled in for another nap.

  She had plenty of sleep to catch up on and wanted to make sure she was mentally and physically at her best for the last part of this mission.

  Because she wouldn’t get any do-overs if she fucked it up.

  * * * *

  Papa had to go handle the discussion part of their arrival with brass, leaving Alpha to supervise the unloading and getting the scientists settled in their new lab.

  After the RV was squared away, Tango turned to him. “So what’s the story with that chick, Tank? You piss in her Cheerios or something?”

  “Fuck if I know. I guess she doesn’t want that one girl making eyes at me.”

  It irritated the snot out of Alpha. He hadn’t done anything wrong.

  And she was cute.

  Tank, not Sylvan. Well, Sylvan was cute, but the more he watched and listened to Tank, he realized she had some mysterious quality about her that attracted him far more than the vapid coed. No doubt the kids were all smart. They’d have to be to earn this kind of handling from Arliss and Bubba.

  But there was just something…different about Tank.

  The fact that she’d lucked out killing four well-trained guys notwithstanding.

  It irritated him that he couldn’t put his finger on it.

  Unless she warmed up to him soon, it looked like he wouldn’t be getting friendly with her, either.

  Fuck. At this rate, I won’t get laid again until the end of the apocalypse.

  * * * *


  Later that afternoon, a very young and very polite corporal from the base, along with two armed men, arrived in their dorm to talk to them and debrief them. They’d accompany them to his office, where they’d get assigned official IDs. Once that was done, they’d lose their main “escort” because their badges would either allow or deny them entry into other areas of the base.

  In other words, they couldn’t go anywhere they weren’t supposed to go, because they wouldn’t have access.

  Fine with Tank. It meant less aggravation for her, less need for her to sheepdog the kids.

  They would also have special sat-link access through the common room. The base’s IT corps had already set up the connection for them. They’d have to use it as a wired connection, but all the anonymizing was done on the base’s end. The connection would be untraceable. Obviously, for their own safety, they were asked not to expose where they were, or their access would be immediately terminated.

  Tank suspected the Canadians were too polite to state the obvious, that they risked personal termination in that case, too.

  Everyone looked at Sylvan. “Fine, I get it.” She started crying. “I just want to find my parents.”

  “Look, you can post that you’re looking for them, now that we’ve got a secure connection,” Tank told her, “but you cannot reveal where we are.”

  “If you locate them,” the corporal said, “find out where they are and tell us. We’ll see what can be done to help them. That goes for all of you. That comes directly from General Arliss.”

  Sylvan nodded but didn’t say anything else.

  “Have they guaranteed our immunity yet?” Tank asked, even though she already knew he wouldn’t know.

  “You’ll have to talk to Papa about that. My orders are to make sure you all have what you need from us. Food, lodging, equipment. Anything regarding your status must go through Papa.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” Good, that set her up with one ready-made excuse to leave the others behind for a private chat.

  They got their photo ID badges and were allowed to leave, without an escort this time. On their way back to the common room, Tank hung back when she saw Omega standing there, looking like he wanted to talk to her.