“No one move,” a woman’s voice hollered. “NYPD!”
Crap. I didn’t need to tangle with the police. I flipped the man over and dug out the wallet I’d seen in his back pocket. “Hey!” he cried.
I punched him in the back of the head hard enough to silence him for a while, then bounded back toward the dining room. There, I grabbed one of the downed men’s rifles—an M4 similar to mine—and hit the opening in the wall just as the corridor began to glow with the beams of the arriving officers.
I took the spiral staircase three and four steps at a time until I was back in the garage. Ducking under the door I had bent up earlier, I was met by the sounds of tires smashing through puddles. Red and blue lights flashed down the alleyway.
“Up here!” someone called.
I craned my neck to see Prof Croft standing on the rooftop of the adjoining building. I slung the rifle across my back and, grabbing window ledges, propelled myself up the five stories until I was over the ledge. I landed beside the wizard, whose staff was crackling with energy.
“Police heard the gunfire and explosions,” he said, taking off across the rooftop. “Whole block’s going to be sealed off any second.”
Sure enough, all around, police sirens were wailing.
“Thought you had a friend in the department,” I said.
“I do, but … well, I sort of have a thing for her. And this could look bad.”
I rolled my eyes. “Where’s our ride?”
“Three blocks east.”
At the end of the block, we stopped and peered down. Cruisers were staked out at the intersections. I eyed the building across the street from us. It was about the same height as the one we were standing on.
“I can use a force invocation to get us across,” Croft said, “but its imprecise, and the landing could be a little rough.”
“Stay there.” I backed up and then sprinted toward the ledge.
“Oh, c’mon,” Croft said, holding his arms out. “You’re not planning on—ungh!”
I seized him around the waist as I leapt. We arced over the street and thudded onto the next block of rooftops with room to spare. I ran several feet to exhaust our momentum before setting Croft back down.
“A little warning would’ve been nice,” he said, straightening his coat.
“Wasn’t time.”
I took the lead, charging around rooftop gardens and clothes lines. Croft followed. The end of the block was clear. Declining my invitation to climb onto my back, Croft stepped off the ledge to drop the five stories. A few feet before impact, he shouted a word. A force blew from the end of his cane, softening his landing. I came down on hands and feet beside him, and we ran the next block to where the yellow cab was parked.
“Thanks, Kumar,” Croft said as we piled into the back seat.
The Bangladeshi driver was too busy cranking the ignition key and swearing at the dead car to respond.
“Oh.” Croft uttered another one of his words, and the engine roared to life. “Only way I could get him to stay put until we got back,” he whispered to me. “Where are we going anyway?”
I pulled the wallet I’d confiscated from the shooter and opened it with a rip of Velcro. I turned it so the ID behind the plastic sleeve was right-side up and stared at it for several seconds.
“Shit,” I muttered.
“What’s up?” Croft asked.
“Those guys were U.S. military.”
“The shooters?”
I nodded, my thoughts going a mile a second. The driver watched me in the rearview mirror, awaiting what he no doubt hoped would be the final drop-off location.
“My apartment,” I said to him at last. “I’ll tell you how to get there.”
I needed the sat phone.
26
“So what’s the plan?” Croft asked as our cab weaved through Chinatown.
In my peripheral vision, I could see the wizard watching me as I stared down at the wallet. I had no leads on the White Dragon, but I was looking at the ID of a man who had just tried to kill me—which could prove a lead in itself. If U.S. military personnel were involved, I needed to determine to what extent. That meant finding out whether this guy, John Paul, was still active duty and in what capacity. The next step would be hacking into whatever he was using for communication. If he was involved in keeping Orzu safe, he might drop his whereabouts.
I’d put Hotwire on it, one of the most capable commo sergeants in the military—and a soldier who, I’d recently learned, wasn’t afraid to bend the rules.
“I need to make some calls,” I replied to Croft. “It’s right up there,” I told the cabbie.
As we pulled in front of the apothecary shop, Croft said, “I know this place—Mr. Han carries some of the best dried arachnid in the five boroughs. Great for stealth potions. You’re staying here?”
“Next door, actually.” I fished the keys from my coat pocket. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be. You’re welcome to come up.”
I still wasn’t keen on being chaperoned, but Croft was staying out of my way as promised, and had even helped me out at Bashi’s. Plus, there was his similarity to my former civil affairs officer. As with Parker, I felt strangely responsible for him—powerful wizard or not.
“Thanks, but I’m going to duck into Mr. Han’s for a few items,” he said.
I checked my watch then peered out at the dark shop window. “Is he even open?”
“He keeps odd hours. Plus I’m sort of a preferred client.”
I grunted and opened the car door. The cabbie appealed to us with forlorn eyes and broken English that he be allowed to go home, but I noticed that the cabs had become scarcer after dark, and I needed transport. I made eye contact with Croft as he got out of the cab’s other side. Catching the message, he spoke another of his words and the engine died.
“Wait here,” I told Kumar, who was already swearing and banging the steering wheel. “We’ll be back in a bit.”
On the sidewalk, Croft grabbed my arm. “Hey, how are you feeling?”
I paused. In the heat of battle, there hadn’t been time for self reflection, but I hadn’t lost my cool once. “In control,” I replied. “That wolfsbane drink you gave me is working.”
“Good,” he said, even as concern lines deepened around his dark gaze. He was thinking about the deteriorating bonding spell. Though he hadn’t said it, I knew that if I descended into full savagery he was under orders to kill me. “Just don’t forget you have another dose if you need it.”
I nodded, patting the breast of my coat where the liquid sloshed in its bottle.
As Croft tapped on the shop door with his cane, I unlocked the door beside it and made my way up the narrow stairwell. I would call Hotwire on the sat phone and give him the info on this John Paul. He could take it from there. I would also get an update on Team 5, learn whether they were still in the valley or back at base after Stanick had discovered I’d left.
I swore at myself for putting my team in that position and even more so for alienating Daniela. I remembered the emptiness in her voice before she’d hung up. With the wizard’s concoction, I felt I could talk to her now. I would call her after speaking to Hotwire, I decided.
But as I inserted the key into the lock, my nostrils flared. Someone had been in here recently. Someone familiar, though I couldn’t place the scent. My ears angled toward the click of a floorboard on the other side of the door.
The person was still inside the apartment.
I shoved the door open as I dropped to the floor, the M4 I’d ripped off the soldier in firing position. The intruder stood across the room, his tall figure outlined by the window that overlooked the alley. His back had been to the door, but now he turned toward me. Beneath his iron gray hair, the stern lines of his face waxed into view.
My finger froze over the trigger. “Colonel Stanick?”
“On your feet, Captain,” he said sharply. He was dressed in full uniform. “And lower your weapon, for God’s sake.”
<
br /> My gaze dropped to his hands, but he was unarmed. I removed the strap from around my body as I rose and set the weapon on the bed. At this close range he couldn’t do anything without me reaching him first.
Colonel Stanick’s rigid gaze moved from my monstrous feet to my hands and then up to my face. The bandage mask and scarf were back in place, but he studied the contours of my jaw and brow with a tight expression that was hard to read. At last his eyes came to a rest on my fiery yellow irises.
“How did you find me?” I asked.
“We used Daniela’s call to triangulate your position. She didn’t know.”
He didn’t need to add that last part. Daniela would never have knowingly set me up, no matter how hurt or confused she’d been. But I was thinking more about the timeline. From when I had talked to Daniela until now had been about six hours. I relaxed slightly. That would have been more than enough time for Stanick to have been flown from D.C. to New York.
“Now do you want to tell me what the hell is going on?” he asked, snapping on the desk lamp. Dark yellow light flooded half of the room.
“First, who told you about this?” I gestured to myself.
“Why do you think someone told me?”
“Because you wouldn’t have recognized me otherwise. My body’s different. My voice is different.” Also, Colonel Stanick hadn’t reacted in surprise, which was still setting off alarm bells in my head. Especially after finding a military ID on the gunman back at Bashi’s.
“Parker contacted me.”
“Parker?”
“Two days ago, before he died in action.” He held up a stiff hand. “Don’t be upset, Captain. He was concerned about you, as we all are. He told me what happened, about you contracting this … condition. I sent the team back in to evac you, but you wouldn’t go with them. Parker told me you were under the impression you had to destroy some sort of dragon. Is that true?”
“Where are they now? Team 5?”
“I asked you a question, Captain,” Stanick snapped. “Is that true?”
He continued to stand ruler-straight on the far side of the bed. As I met my commander’s gaze, I felt my shoulders straightening and my feet coming together. I wanted to tell him the truth—he still had that effect on me. But there was no way in hell he was going to accept my version: sorceresses and curses and a war between ancient Guardians.
I cleared my throat. “I honestly couldn’t tell you, sir. Whatever happened to me seems to have affected my mind. My thoughts are in constant chaos. The men were just following my orders.”
Stanick watched me for several moments, his mouth a taut line, before nodding. “Was that what brought you to New York? This same delusion about needing to kill a dragon?”
“I … yeah, I think so.”
“I want you to listen to me, Captain,” he said, coming around the bed. “I believe you when you say your team was just following orders. They’re committed to you. But they also aided and abetted your desertion. They’re presently in detainment awaiting general court-martial.”
Blood rushed to my face. “You can’t do that, sir.”
“You know me, Jason. I give you room to freelance out in the field, but I expect you to conform to the Uniform Code of Military Conduct at all times. Desertion is a grave violation of that code.” I started to protest, but he held up his hand again. “In this case, though, there were extenuating circumstances. You’ve clearly contracted a nefarious illness. Why else would you be chasing dragons? But we need a physician to evaluate you. That will support what you’re saying and explain why you coerced your team into aiding you. They’ll be exonerated, and you’ll receive treatment. I’ll see to both. And no matter how long that treatment takes, your position at the training battalion will be awaiting you.”
“Evaluate me where?” I asked.
“Fort Bell. On Long Island Sound.”
“Fort Bell? I thought it was decommissioned.”
“Only partially.”
Though the lines in his face remained stern, Stanick’s eyes softened with concern. He’d always treated me like a son. But going with him would mean turning myself in to the military. That would spare my teammates and reassure Daniela that I was safe and receiving care—ineffective as that care would be. But it would also give the White Dragon carte blanche to wipe out the Kabadi. And then what? A descent into world darkness, as the Kabadi believed? Or only the end of some ethereal line of Guardians, as Croft seemed to think. Either way, I’d be breaking a promise I had made to Nafid and the Great Wolf.
“It’s the only way, Jason,” he pressed.
As I considered my options, I felt my pulse racing, my body heating up. Not now, dammit. I stooped forward and massaged my temples with the thumb and middle finger of my right hand.
“What’s wrong?” Stanick asked.
Grunting, I paced in a circle. My chest heaved with coarse breaths. My senses were returning to a razor-sharp keenness, crowding out my rational mind. The wolfsbane potion was wearing off. This soon? I thought worriedly. Shoving back against my wolf instincts, I pulled the water bottle from my coat pocket, unscrewed the lid with trembling hands and chugged down the muddy concoction. Almost immediately my heart rate steadied. I tossed the bottle away and, hands propped against my thighs, took several calming breaths.
“You all right, Captain?” Stanick stepped closer.
I shot an arm out, seized the front of his shirt, and slammed him against the wall beside the bed. The lines of his face spiraled toward his gasping mouth as his hands grasped my wrist.
“You almost had me,” I snarled.
“Wh-what are you talking about?”
“It was a good story—no one would have been able to question him—but Parker didn’t tell you shit.”
“Put me … down!” he grunted.
“Everything you learned about me came from Orzu, the White Dragon. He must have forgotten to tell you about my sense of smell.”
When I’d first entered Bashi’s dining room earlier that evening, I had picked up three scents: Bashi’s, the White Dragon’s, and one that had been unfamiliar—clean, but with an undercurrent of musky sweat. With my senses dulled, I hadn’t made the connection to the scent filling my room. But the sudden return of my wolf nature had established it. The two scents were one and the same.
“Put me down,” he repeated. “That’s an order!”
I jacked him higher, until his head was touching the ceiling. “So now that we know who you’re working for, let’s go back to the beginning. CENTCOM didn’t order Team 5 to the Wari Corridor, did they? You did. And you embedded Baine from Centurion, instructed him to order an airstrike. You knew how outraged I’d be. You knew I’d demand punishment. So you used your position to have Baine incarcerated. All part of ‘the plan,’ you probably assured him. Until you had him killed to cover up your involvement.”
“This is the … delusion talking,” he managed, his face reddening.
“Then why don’t you tell me why you were having dinner tonight with Bashi and Orzu?” He struggled instead of answering. “I think I’ve got that part figured out too. I noticed you got yourself a seat on the poppy-eradication task force last year. Imagine you learned a lot: the big growers, the major heroin networks. You eventually set your sights on Orzu—a grower in a remote province no one cared about. In exchange for a percentage, you would help him expand his holdings while putting the more visible growers out of business. Less competition would mean more money. A bigger slice of the pie for you.”
“How dare you—”
I shook him silent and continued. “Orzu explained his interest in the Kabadi people’s valley. Probably asked you to clean them out. But an airstrike on that many civilians would demand an investigation, right? That’s when you decided to send the Centurion patsy in with Team 5. Make it look like he was after a commission, then shut him up. Unopposed, Orzu could then take care of the valley. Neither of you knew this would happen, though.”
I pulled my sc
arf and mask away and watched Colonel Stanick’s eyes go stricken with horror.
“That’s right. I was cursed. I then helped thwart the White Dragon’s attack that night. Still, you didn’t want your fingerprints on that valley, so you arranged to meet Orzu here. The plan was to secure Bashi as a major buyer, fund the White Dragon’s army, and claim the valley whether I was down there or not. Only I was here. And I got to your meeting a lot faster than you thought I could.”
The men I had confronted at Bashi’s just now had probably been a military security detail for Colonel Stanick. They wouldn’t have been given info outside those parameters, meaning John Paul was going to be a dead end. Fortunately, I had a new source of info.
“The only question,” I said, giving my commander another shake, “is where the White Dragon is now.”
Stanick had stopped trying to talk. Instead, he was struggling to pull something from the right pocket of his pants. I readied my talons, but when his hand emerged, he was holding a folded-up piece of paper. He shook it out and held it toward my face. I felt my grip on him falter. It was the image of Daniela I had printed off and packed.
“Is that supposed to be a threat?” I growled.
“It’s an appeal to reason,” he grunted. “Set me down so we can talk.”
I snarled at him, then opened my hand suddenly. He landed beside the bed, knocking over the end table and lamp on the way down. I watched him pull himself to his feet, swipe a hand through his hair, and then straighten and re-tuck his shirt with sharp, indignant gestures. The photo of Daniela had fallen beside him. I picked it up and tucked it into a pocket.
“Consider what this will do to her,” he said.
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“We’re a country at war, Captain. Young men and women are sacrificing and dying every day. How do you think the country is going to look at a soldier who deserted his team and then murdered fellow soldiers back home? How do you think they’re going to look at his fiancé?”
Blue Curse (Blue Wolf Book 1) Page 20