Rookie in the Midst [Blue Platoon 1]

by Jools Louise

  Dodging out of sight again, he followed the small stream, then cut across country again to the road, hog-tied the injured medic, and then drove away, punching the air in triumph.

  * * * *

  “Amos! Finch! Guys! Someone just shot Craig and kidnapped him,” Elvis cried, racing into the master bedroom.

  Snarling, the four men jumped from the bed where they’d been sound asleep and ran from the room, heading straight outside.

  “What the fuck?” Finch cried, raking his long hair in frustration. “He just said he was going to the bathroom and then for a quick run. I went back to sleep.”

  “I heard him, too,” Amos growled, clutching Finch’s shoulder. “This is on all of us.”

  “Can you describe who it was?” Blaze asked Elvis, glancing to see Carter standing there, plus their newest pack member, Cormack, who had stayed when the Ruin pack had been sent home.

  “Tall, black hair, dark eyes,” Elvis replied, chewing his lip in agitation. “He had a huge rifle. I heard a faint sound, just by chance when I went downstairs for a coffee. I saw Craig fall, and then a man running from that hill over there. I ran outside, but he was gone. I figured I’d best wake you rather than going after him.”

  “Could be Costa,” Garnet said darkly.

  “Let me check CCTV,” Blaze commented, running inside. A few moments later, he was back, scowling. “Charles Costa, bold as fucking brass. He shot Craig in the shoulder, then hauled him up the hill to the road. Must have a vehicle waiting.”

  “I feel him, here,” Amos said, clutching his chest. “He’s distressed. In pain. He’s not communicating with us, so he must be unconscious.”

  “Me too,” the others all said, concerned by the sudden turn of events. Just a few minutes ago, they’d been snuggling after a round of morning sex. Now their beloved heart was in peril—again.

  “I think we, meaning me and Carter, need to rescue him,” Elvis suddenly said, looking terrified as they all turned to stare at him.

  “You think you can do better than a team of crack commandos?” Amos drawled, his dark eyes locking on like a guidance system.

  “No, sir,” Elvis replied, taking a step back. “But we need to be there,” he continued, rubbing his chest. “Don’t ask me how I know that. I just have this feeling. As though we’re crucial to him coming back alive.”

  Amos growled softly, tilting his head. “Someone has to stay here to guard this place,” he said.

  “I’ll stay,” Garnet replied immediately.

  “I need a driver to take Elvis and Carter, and a wingman to make sure they get to where they need to get to safely.”

  “Let me,” Finch volunteered.

  Elvis winced when Finch sent him a wicked smile. “Yay!”

  “I have this feeling that you need to stay here, alpha,” Carter said timidly, flinching when the man’s dark gaze turned his way, pinning him to the spot.

  “Do you now?” Amos queried.

  “Sir, I had a strange dream last night. That Craig had been taken, and my parents had been killed by Charlie. And Connor was on the run.” Carter gulped as all eyes turned to him. “It wasn’t like a normal dream. It felt more like a premonition.” He stared at his toes, scuffing his bare feet on the thick rug he stood on. “I also dreamed that you went away, on an urgent errand or something, and when you came back, someone had taken over this valley.”

  Amos grunted.

  “I had the exact same dream,” Elvis said, almost in a whisper, and he and Carter exchanged startled glances. “I think that when Craig helped us to heal, he transferred some of his powers to us.”

  “Yeah, that man’s got karma,” Blaze commented affectionately. “Always caring and sharing.”

  “I have a tendency to believe them,” Finch piped up, his green eyes glittering with purpose. “Me and Blaze can take care of Costa while these two get Craig back.”

  “Take the truck,” Amos said, obviously making a decision to accept and trust Elvis and Carter. “We’ll deal with whoever decides to attack our home.”

  “I can help,” Cormack said, wandering downstairs. “I have a few scores to settle. If any more Ruins come this way, I’m happy to kick ass.”

  Amos nodded. “Good. We could use the assist. Everyone get dressed, then, and we can get loaded up.”

  “I’ll get the drone and gear up,” Blaze said, racing upstairs ahead of the others.

  “Thank you,” Elvis said, his attitude at bay.

  “You’re thanking me?” Amos asked as they began to climb the stairs. “You might regret volunteering for this.”

  “We need to do it,” Carter said quietly. He shrugged. “I got the impression that if we didn’t get Craig back, the packs would be catastrophically changed. And not in a good way.”

  Amos nodded again and patted the younger man on the shoulder. “Then you need to help get him back,” he said mildly and disappeared into his bedroom.

  “Pack light and dark,” Finch told the pair as he passed them.

  Elvis shot him a confused look. “What does that mean?” he asked, his snark back.

  “Lightweight, dark clothing,” the man retorted, winking, his eyes twinkling merrily as Elvis snorted.

  “Why didn’t you just say that?”

  “Man, you’re easy,” Finch sighed, waving as he entered the master bedroom.

  Blaze came running out, a small duffel in his hand and a hard-shell case in the other. “Get ready, guys, we need to move. Hop to it if you want to help save Craig. We’re leaving in ten minutes, with or without you.”

  The younger men yelped and then ran to their room.

  Chapter Eleven

  Costa grinned as he threw his passenger into the small boat, hearing a dull yelp of pain. Served the bastard right. Besides, Private Mason had best get used to pain. There would be lots more in the coming days—before Costa killed him.

  He untied the bowline and then hopped into the little launch, firing up the outboard motor before steering away from the jetty. Fortunately, the weather was fair. He wasn’t traveling the whole way in this boat, merely using it to transfer his prisoner. It wasn’t powerful enough for what he needed. He’d let the others help him to take Craig to the island. More a large rock in the middle of the ocean, really.

  * * * *

  Amos stared after his mates, and the two young men who accompanied them, and felt as though he was standing on a precipice, waiting for the ground to tumble away beneath him. If anything happened to Craig, and their heart was killed, Amos would slay any who were involved with his disappearance. Nobody would be spared.

  “You had the same dream, didn’t you?” Garnet asked, wrapping an arm around his alpha’s waist.

  “Yeah,” Amos replied darkly. “The exact same one.”

  “Me too,” Garnet said, nodding. “We all did, I think. We just didn’t put any significance to it, until Elvis and Carter both told us about theirs.”

  “Charlie killed his parents. After they were going to kill him. But Connor escaped. I’m not sure about him—he’s unpredictable, but on his own at the moment. He’s running for his life right now.” Amos repeated the vision succinctly.

  “Connor will want to stay in the area,” Cormack said, standing beside them. “He could already be here.”

  “Then let’s lay out a welcome mat.” Amos smiled, his tone cool as a mountain stream.

  “On it.” Garnet grinned, high-fiving Amos.

  “I just hope he brings some friends,” Cormack said evilly, cracking his knuckles. “Most of ’em are just begging for a kicking.”

  They shared a look, communicating a wealth of meaning, and then began to prepare for another possible attack.

  * * * *

  “How are we supposed to get to him now?” Elvis asked, hands on hips, staring out to sea after a small motorboat that was zipping away from the jetty. They’d caught up with Costa, but the bastard had eluded them in traffic when they’d been stuck behind a tourist coach doing photo stops of the scenery.r />
  “So little faith,” Finch commented, rolling his eyes as he opened the tailgate of the pickup truck.

  “What’s that?” Carter asked curiously, watching as Finch and Blaze began to drag what appeared to be the hull of a dinghy from the flatbed.

  “A duck,” Finch said, grinning when Elvis shot him a sour look.

  “You really aren’t that funny, you know,” Elvis told him.

  “You really do need to lighten up, sweet pea,” Finch replied, chuckling as he dragged off the tarp that covered the dinghy.

  “Hmmpf!”

  “How did you know we’d need this?” Carter asked shyly, and then blushed when Elvis curled his lip at him.

  “Well duh,” Elvis said. “Outer Hebrides was the destination, wasn’t it? What did you think we were gonna do? Fly?”

  “No need to be sarcastic,” Carter retorted, pouting. “I forgot. All the head traumas I’ve had lately, is that so surprising?”

  Elvis flushed and ducked his head. “Sorry.”

  Carter didn’t reply, staring at the ground.

  “I really am sorry,” Elvis repeated, hugging his friend. “I forget how sensitive you are, hun. Forgive me?”

  Carter smiled and nodded. “It was a bit of a silly question.”

  “No,” Elvis replied, kissing his cheek. “I’m just mean.”

  “Short, too,” Finch said, fixing an electric pump to the dinghy to inflate the craft.

  “Not everyone looks like they eat three Shredded Wheat for breakfast, followed by a ton of spinach,” Elvis said, sneering. “Petite is the new black.”

  Blaze laughed uproariously. “He loves a bit of sausage and cream, too,” he teased his mate, and then ducked as Finch aimed a slap his way.

  “Nothing wrong with that,” Carter giggled.

  “Amen!” Elvis said, laughing.

  They rigged the Zodiac craft and used the slipway to ease it into the water.

  “He’s getting farther away, and much faster than before,” Blaze suddenly said, staring out to sea. “We’re gonna lose him.”

  “Yeah. We need to get going,” Finch growled. “Make sure you have everything. I’ll park this over there, in the long-stay car park.”

  They grabbed their gear, parked up, and then got into the boat. The powerful outboard motors snarled as Blaze fired them up, and within seconds, they were speeding away from the dock. Their only navigation was the inbuilt GPS they had when they’d mated with Craig. He and Finch both exchanged worried glances.

  “What’s wrong?” Carter asked from the bow.

  “Our connection is getting even fainter,” Finch replied. “We need to hurry.”

  Blaze, at the helm, added a burst of power, throttling up, and the zodiac virtually skimmed over the calm sea, heading between two of the islands, Lewis and North Uist. They got clear of the choppier water, heading out to open sea, and followed the faint pulse of the mate connection. A larger boat appeared on the horizon, five miles out, a trawler that was moving away at a rapid pace of knots.

  “He was on that,” Blaze shouted over the engine’s roar. “Look. There’s Costa’s boat.”

  He steered closer, the faster zodiac gaining now. “Cut the towline,” Finch told Elvis, handing him a knife. “I may need to use this,” he said, grabbing the hard-shell case and unlocking it. A huge rifle, in pieces, was inside, which he put together efficiently.

  Elvis held on as Blaze guided their craft closer to the small motorboat being tugged along behind the trawler and used the wickedly sharp hunting knife to slice the rope.

  “Now Costa has nowhere to hide.” Finch grinned evilly, shouldering the rifle and aiming carefully.

  “How can he shoot when this thing is bouncing all over?” Carter whispered to Blaze.

  “Watch,” Blaze told him, pointing.

  Finch had fitted a silencer and fired at the trawler’s satellite system, high up in the rigging.

  “Now they’re blind,” Blaze explained. Finch fired again, hitting the satellite twice more, smashing it to pieces.

  Men began to clamber up on deck, guns at the ready, but Blaze zipped in behind, out of sight, playing hide and seek. Finch reached out and placed a tracker on the vessel, then waved Blaze to back off. Immediately they did a rapid about-face and powered away, hearing gunfire trailing them.

  “Costa isn’t a fool, Zane,” Blaze warned his mate. “He’ll know what we’re about.”

  Zane Finch grinned back. “That’s what I’m counting on,” he said cheerfully. “Now, aim for that island over there, will you?”

  Blaze peered into the distance. “If you say so,” he said doubtfully, and moved the tiller so the zodiac veered in the direction of a large, gray outline on the horizon.

  “You know where Craig is, don’t you?” Elvis said shrewdly.

  “I have connections,” Finch said. “That trawler was a decoy. Costa got another ride. Only place that is uninhabited around here, and has anything like a dwelling big enough to house multiple people, is on that rock over there. I got word that there has been unusual activity around here for a couple of years at least. And not just bird watchers studying the sea cliffs. Apparently, the last person who got too close to the rocks was fired upon. Talk about drawing attention to yourselves,” he added in disgust. “It’s strange, though, that there’s been no follow-up investigation.”

  “So Costa wasn’t on board the trawler?” Carter said.

  “Costa was definitely on the trawler, but he handed Craig off to someone else,” Finch said confidently. “He may or may not have boarded the next vessel. I hope so. I want a piece of him. Like you said, Blaze, the man’s evil as fuck, but nobody’s fool. He must have titanium balls to sneak onto our land the way he did and take Craig right under our noses. Fucking bastard.” He said it almost affectionately.

  “He’ll be fucking dead when I catch up to him,” Blaze snarled.

  “Of course, honey,” Finch retorted, smiling. “But you’ve got to hand it to him. He managed to outsmart us four dullards.”

  “So, he’s either a genius, or you aren’t too bright,” Elvis said sotto voce, earning him and glare from Blaze, and a wink from Finch.

  “Sweet pea, anyone who can pull one over on us, in broad daylight, while we’re sleeping off a night of sex, doesn’t need to be a genius. We should have taken better care of what’s ours.” Finch sounded vicious, at odds with the smile on his face.

  “We all should,” Elvis told him. “We had the dream, after all, and ignored the warning.”

  “So did we,” Blaze explained. “Our mate didn’t just share his gifts with you two. We also had the same premonition, but we were so eager to be with our mate, we didn’t heed it. So that one’s on us.”

  “We’ll get him back,” Carter said firmly. “Costa and his cronies can’t be allowed to get away with this.”

  “I’m just glad we mated before they got their hands on him,” Blaze said fiercely. “It means he’s got a fighting chance.”

  “And we’re about to give him even more of one,” Finch agreed, high-fiving his mate. They shared a hot kiss, before concentrating on the task at hand. The craft edged nearer to the large rocky outcrop that jutted from the sea, several miles away from the nearest of the Hebrides.

  “It’s getting dark,” Finch said as the sun sank lower in the sky. “We’ll do a quick recce with the drone, get an idea of the landing sights, then wait until nightfall to move in. Might need to swim.”

  “Swim?” Carter said faintly. “Oh dear.”

  “Not a swimmer?” Blaze asked.

  “Not really. More a doggy paddler.”

  They all laughed at Carter’s rueful expression. Finch slapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, mate. The swim won’t kill you. We’ll be helping you. It’s the two-hundred-foot cliff that’ll probably get you first.”

  They eyed the sheer wall of granite that loomed ahead, dotted with screeching seabirds, guarding nests.

  “Fantastic,” Carter said, paling. “So glad
you mentioned it.”

  “Happy to help,” Finch replied cheerfully.

  Blaze cut the engine about a mile or so from the rock, and the Zodiac bobbed on the gentle swell. “Here. Let’s get eyes on,” he said, reaching for another case, this one containing a drone and camera. He retrieved the handset and rigged a small notebook computer. He sent the drone aloft, and they got a clear view of the small island. There was only one relatively safe landing area, which would certainly be watched.

  “There,” Finch said, pointing to a cliff face only slightly less sheer than the others. “Looks doable.”

  “Yeah, if you’re a kittiwake,” Elvis retorted, wrinkling his nose. “I’m a wolf shifter not a mountain goat.”

  “Sweet pea, you wanted to come,” Finch told him, grinning. “In fact, you said it was imperative that you rescued our beloved. So suck it up, buttercup, and let’s make plans.” He leaned in close and pecked Elvis on the nose. “Because one way or another, we are not leaving without him.”

  Elvis eyed the darkness in Finch’s twinkling stare and nodded, gulping. “Sir, yes, sir,” he shot back bravely, saluting smartly. “Anything else? Want me to kiss your butt while we’re all friendly, like?”

  “Sir, no, sir,” Finch said, slapping Elvis on the ass. “Now quit bitchin’ and start coming up with an egress plan.”

  Elvis stuck his tongue out. “You plan, we’ll figure out how we’re going to turn into a bloody pigeon!”

  * * * *

  Connor curled up under a rocky overhang, exhausted from the long run, his thirst clawing at him. He had two miles to go, and then he was in the clear. He heard vehicles approaching, multiple, and tried to blend into his surroundings. His gray coat helped, and the deepening dusk added shadows to aid his camouflage. He cringed as he saw the logos emblazoned on the sides of the land rovers and trucks. This was no ordinary visit. And his father had brought it upon them all. An army convoy. Probably there to investigate the wolf pack running all over creation. What had his father been thinking to shift like that?