Rookie in the Midst [Blue Platoon 1]

by Jools Louise

  He frowned as he watched the convoy slow and then turn onto the road that led to Hartland’s valley. Shit. As the vehicles passed out of sight, he scrambled up the slope, using the landscape as cover, and peered down the other side of the hill, watching the taillights of the troop carriers descend the windy road.

  Following a faint trail, he surprised a rabbit as he padded silently along and scooped it up for a quick meal, crunching on the bones, tearing up the meat. His thirst for blood was never far from the surface. His wolf was savage and willful, and he’d always had to fight the thing for dominance.

  Settling down, he lay in wait, smiling. Maybe he wouldn’t have to do his own dirty work after all. His smile turned to a sneer. That Hartland wanker, always so perfect, so macho. Never a fucking hair out of place, and thinking he owned the planet. Filthy queer. Let the army take care of him. He nursed his leg, which was still healing from having been shot by that green-eyed fucker. Bloody soldiers!

  * * * *

  Amos opened the door, grinning as he recognized the Major marching smartly toward him. “Howard,” he greeted, saluting mockingly. “Don’t you look handsome in uniform?”

  Howard flipped him off, out of sight of those in the vehicles behind him, grinning back. “Hey, slacker,” he said quietly. “What the fuck is going on?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Howard rolled his eyes. “You couldn’t look innocent if you tried,” he retorted. “I just got a call about a pack of wolves roaming the countryside. Anything you’d like to share?” He gave Amos a canine grin before retracting his fangs.

  “Dude, I cannot tell a lie,” Amos said, all serious now.

  Howard watched him warily. “Sure you can,” he said. “You’ve been doing it since we were kids.”

  “Okay, so how about we don’t take a trip down memory lane, and I bring you up to speed on the new movie that’s being shot here, brother.” Amos’s dark eyes twinkled merrily at Howard’s openmouthed expression.

  “Really? Is that the story you’re going with?”

  “What else? I have a crew here already,” Amos said. “They finished up a while ago and are heading back south, now.”

  Howard groaned, rubbing his temples wearily. “How the fuck do you suppose I’m going to get that one past the brass?”

  “Same way I did,” Amos said. “I just now got off the phone to the brigadier. He was most interested in the footage I sent him.”

  “You have footage.”

  “Of course. Although some of the wolves misbehaved ever so slightly, going off-script. But the CGI effects were fantastic, don’t you think? All in all, a pretty good shoot.”

  “Let me see,” Howard growled. He turned to gesture his troops out of their vehicles. “Lieutenant Arnold. Corporal. On me.”

  “Yes, sir,” the men said at once, and marched up.

  “Would you like coffee?” Amos asked politely. “Freshly ground. Java blend.”

  Howard shook his head. “Just show me the footage, brother.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Fucker.”

  “Always.” Amos grinned and led the way into the house.

  Chapter Twelve

  The climb had been traumatizing, to say the least. Carter lay on his belly, eyes closed, trying to focus on being alive.

  “Fun, wasn’t it?” Finch hissed into the comm link, eyeing the two rookies with some amusement, seeing pale faces, and drawn expressions. He guessed mountain climbing wasn’t a favorite hobby for them.

  On cue, Elvis sneered at him, increasing Finch’s respect for the man. Even in a crisis like this, where the slightest error could result in them all dying, Elvis was keeping his attitude on like armor.

  “Buttwad, remind me again how old you are?” the little imp said sweetly. Finch grinned back, flipping the sassy minx off.

  “Let’s go, chaps,” Blaze said, leading the way over ground toward the small group of structures that sat in a semicircle, about a half mile from their landing point.

  Finch took the rear, with Elvis and Carter crawling along in single file behind, keeping as low as possible.

  “IED,” Blaze hissed, stopping dead and falling to his belly. He rummaged around in one of his multitude of pockets, then began a deadly game of disarm the bomb. “Clear.” They followed his movements exactly and, a half dozen mines later, were within a hundred yards of their target. Clearly whoever ran this place didn’t want anyone leaving…or discovering what they were up to. Without Blaze’s special skills, they’d be gull fodder.

  “I sense him,” Finch said through the link. “He’s here, but in a lot more pain. He must be unconscious because I can’t communicate.”

  “Which building?” Carter asked, staring at the three crofts, made of local rock, and two larger structures, constructed of concrete with only tiny windows, more like slits.

  “The far one, I think,” Blaze said. “We’ll need to take care of these others, though. Watch out for snipers and trip wires.”

  The wind had picked up, howling across the outcrop with ferocious force as a late-spring blizzard tore in from the Arctic. It would be a tricky egress in the zodiac, especially if Craig was injured. Another howl sounded, this time of a more animalistic nature, agonized and chilling, and they all froze, exchanging worried glances.

  “Who was that?” Elvis asked. “Not Craig, I’m sure. You’d have felt it.”

  “You said one of your friends, Sharpe, had been taken,” Blaze commented. “Could he still be here? We don’t know how many prisoners they have here.”

  Carter and Elvis blanched. “Christ, I hope that wasn’t him. I don’t even know if he’s still alive. There’s been no word,” Elvis said.

  “Father said he’d been killed,” Carter said. “But we all know he’s a lying sack of fertilizer. So it could well be Sharpe.”

  “Or Cormack’s brother,” Elvis said. “Alex. He was taken at the same time. I wouldn’t put it past them to have him here.”

  “How many, in total, have disappeared?” Finch asked.

  “Fifteen in the last two years. All similar age to us. All gay,” Carter said sadly. “Before that, the odd shifter used to disappear, in similar circumstances, but then their bodies would show up, in human form, with some reasonable explanation for the authorities. Some of the missing, though, were never reported.”

  “Costa is a homophobe of the worst kind,” Blaze said. “Amos said he was transferred for bullying in his own platoon. But he hasn’t done all this on his own. He was stationed with our alpha out in Afghanistan for months, right after basic. This has been going on for longer. Perhaps they had another base, before this one, on the mainland. This is certainly isolated, but far more difficult to get to.”

  “Is there any chance he could have already had this place before he enlisted?” Elvis asked pensively. “Seems a little too coincidental that he enlists, and then almost immediately turns bad. And then gets involved with pack politics.”

  “He’s an opportunist,” Finch said. “He could well have found out when he shipped back to the UK, or seen Craig, as we suspect, when on training. Once he had blackmail material, he could use that over Craig’s head for years. Except we hooked up with our beloved heart and put four massive spanners in the works for Carlos. He deserted on his last tour and then somehow managed to sneak back here, without anyone noticing. He’s been on a watch list, so I think he’s being protected somehow. He’s targeting Craig, that’s for sure. Someone must have known where Craig was headed.”

  “The hospital,” Blaze suggested. “Craig was in there for some time, with us paying him visits when we could. It wouldn’t be too difficult to find out a destination.”

  There was another spine-chilling howl, and they halted the discussion abruptly.

  “Initiate Phase Two,” Finch hissed, gesturing with hands signals for them move to their next positions. “We have permission to shoot Carlos on sight.”

  Elvis moved onto the graveled road, a track really, that led to the buil
dings, with Finch right beside him, alert for traps. On his belly, crawling as fast as he could, he made his way to the first structure, from where the howl had emanated. Peering through the low-slung tiny window, he viewed a man strung up on a makeshift X-shaped wooden frame. The victim’s arms and legs were spread-eagle, and his back and buttocks were striped with the evidence of dozens of lashes. His face bore nasty bruises, his eyes swollen shut, and a jagged wound tore up part of his face. The man’s injuries were so bad, Elvis didn’t recognize him. Was it Sharpe? Alex? He had no idea. The scent of blood and fear was overwhelming.

  Elvis watched someone move into view, dark-haired and evil, a short whip in hand that had many strands, which were knotted at the ends for maximum damage.

  The lash landed, and the poor man cried out, flinching as the blow landed, screaming. Elvis bit back a snarl, feeling rage rise up inside him.

  “I’ll take care of this,” Finch hissed sharply, holding him back as he began to shift. “You move to the next building.” Elvis nodded and trusted Finch to take care of the torturer. Behind him there was the sound of a silenced pistol firing, and then the door being opened carefully.

  “Someone’s out here,” Carter whispered into the link. “Multiple someones. Watch out, folks.”

  “I sense them, too,” Blaze said. “Stay alert boys.”

  Elvis sniffed the air, smelling salt, blood and something darker, menacing. He whirled as he felt something rush him from behind and clawed at the individual.

  “Fucking twat! Think you’re going to stop me, do you?” The voice was not one he recognized, but the venom in it shook him to the core. This was a killer, for sure, with no mercy in his soul. Cold and calculating and filled with hatred.

  “Costa, you moron, is that you?” Blaze asked mockingly from somewhere to the left, indistinguishable in the darkness.

  “Who the fuck are you?” the man retorted, firing blindly, the muzzle flash blinding Elvis temporarily, but the shot missing him easily, as he’d ducked down as soon as he heard the man speak.

  “Your death warrant,” Blaze said, and swept in before Costa had a chance to say any more. The SBS specialist snapped his neck in a second, leaving the man staring sightlessly up at the storm.

  “There’s bound to be others,” Elvis said, trembling in reaction to all the violence. He felt sick. How did these men do this for a living? He hated fighting.

  “Perhaps,” Blaze said, and then cursed when out of the darkness raced a dozen wolf shifters, in animal form, snarling and snapping viciously. “Shit! Here comes the cavalry.”

  “Fuck,” Finch growled, hidden in the gloom.

  “Fuck is right,” Carter said. “They’re Ruin and Pendry, and looks like Crowther pack members, as well.”

  “If anyone wants to stay alive, I suggest you all shift and surrender,” Finch yelled from just outside the first building.

  The wolves swarmed them. Elvis swore and shifted himself, forgetting how huge he was in his wolf form, now that Craig had done his magic. The wolves yelped, then again when Carter shifted, as well, and began backpedaling fast.

  “Well, that’s something you don’t see every day,” Finch drawled, aiming his rifle. “Stand down, everyone. Before this gets messy.”

  “Yeah, stand down, fuckwits, or I’ll have to disembowel you and feed your innards to the gulls,” Craig yelled from the last building. The rescue party grinned at the man’s irritated warning. “My head hurts like a fucking bitch, you dickheads. I hate being beaten up.”

  “You think he’s at all pissed?” Finch asked. His amusement faded. “Tell me which of you idiots is responsible for this place? Talk now, or I’ll force it out of you…slowly and painfully.”

  “Costa was working for them, before he enlisted,” Craig shouted. “He was sent a list of people who were shifters, from families they thought were inferior or who had nobody to protect them. People whose parents they’d targeted previously who refused to follow their rules. I was on that list.”

  “What?” Blaze asked, startled. He approached the nearest wolf, punching him in the head. “Better explain, or I’ll tear you apart.”

  The shifter changed to human form, staring at the ground sullenly. “Arnie Ruin and the other leading packs, the Pendrys, Colliers, Hawkriggs, O’Shea’s, Trelawneys, Crowther, and McKenzie families, all want a homo-free society, and consider any who don’t have issues with that as being inferior and threatening their authority. They ordered us to guard this place. Our families are on their watch list and were threatened if we didn’t come here to guard this place. We were volunteered. We didn’t torture anyone.”

  “No, but you didn’t try to stop it, either,” Blaze snarled back and punched the man again. “What the fuck is wrong with you all? We’re all wolf shifters. We’re not different from you. We eat and fuck and shit the same. Why don’t you stand up to them? There are only a few families who are causing us to fight against one another. We can stop them. We have the numbers.”

  “It isn’t our way,” the man said, holding his jaw, looking beaten down, and not just from Blaze’s hits. “But we don’t have a choice. The packs are powerful, and they mean business. You don’t know what it’s like. You guys are trained for battle. We have children. Elderly parents. Grandparents. Siblings. They choose guys like us because we provide them with leverage. My mother gave birth to my younger sister last year. They threatened to kill the infant if I didn’t comply with their demands.”

  Craig emerged from the end building, dressed in torn running gear, a bruise on his left cheek, and his eye beginning to blacken. “Gentlemen, ladies,” he said quietly. “Isn’t it time for a different way? The alphas are there to protect and serve, not subjugate. You have the power, not them. Why be turned into butchers and murderers? Is that who you are? Really? Start thinking, and stop simply giving in to them. You give them power.”

  “But they hurt and threaten our families,” another shifter said, changing to human form, as well. “Where else do we go? They have spies all over the place. Any who defy them are killed, or maimed and banished.”

  “How many are here?” Finch asked.

  “Fifteen,” the first shifter said. “Five are no longer living, though. We buried them over there.” He pointed to five piles of rocks.

  “How badly injured are the remaining ten?” Craig asked.

  “Some are pretty bad,” the guy replied gruffly. “I’m sorry.”

  “Let us tend them,” Craig said to Carter and Elvis. “You should be able to help heal, now.”

  The two huge wolves nodded and then padded to the huts. “Are there any other guards?” Finch asked.

  The first wolf hesitated until Finch cocked the trigger of his rifle warningly. “There are two others inside the largest building.”

  “You killed my twin brother,” a voice yelled angrily. “You pricks murdered him.”

  They whirled as a Costa lookalike came from the third building, the second largest, brandishing a machete. He went after Craig, who stood his ground, gesturing for Finch to not fire. Moments later, the ground in front of Craig began to smolder as he focused on it intently, and despite the rain now lashing down, flames leapt upward brightly, engulfing his attacker in a ball of fire. He raised his palms, outward, and howled loudly to the sky as the inferno crept higher and higher. Costa’s twin screamed, trying to put out the flames with his hands. He ran in circles, backing toward the sheer cliff only a hundred yards away. Nobody warned him of the danger, and he fell in a fiery inferno, before landing with a splash in the swirling waves pounding against the island.

  Craig lowered his arms, looking shaken, and Blaze rushed in, enfolding him in a tight embrace. “Easy, my heart,” he whispered. “Damn, but I love you.”

  The former medic and super-wolf hugged him back, absorbing his strength for a few seconds before easing away. “I love you, too, Blaze. I need to help these people,” he said, his voice breaking. “I can’t stop now. I have work to do.”

  “I know, baby.�
� Blaze guided him to the largest building and kicked in the door. The two guards gave up without a fight, apparently having heard the demise of their bosses.

  In cages, chained like animals, were six men and two women. Barely out of their teens, they looked ragged and half-starved, with bruises and lash marks covering them.

  “Hey, guys,” Craig said gently, walking to the first cage. “I’m a medic. Do you mind if I check you over?”

  The young woman shook her filthy dark hair, her blue eyes filled with relieved tears, cowering, naked, in a bed of dirty straw.

  “How long have you been here?” Craig asked when Blaze had retrieved a padlock key from a hook on the far wall, opening the cage quickly.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered, shivering in the cool air. “Months, maybe a year.”

  “Get some water,” Craig yelled outside. “If any of you have any decency at all, you’d better get me some water. Clean. And some clothes or blankets to wrap around these poor people.”

  The girl smiled slightly at him.

  “You’re worse dressed than we are,” she said, sniffling.

  “Yeah,” he retorted dryly. “I went out for a run, ended up on the cruise to hell.”

  She giggled at that, relaxing.

  “Yeah, I don’t think Carnival will ever land here.”

  “Hey, don’t knock it,” the other girl said, from the next cage. “It’s a doer-upper.”

  Craig grinned at the woman, who had identical coloring to her cell mate. “Are you twins by any chance? You look so similar.”

  “Not twins, but sisters, yes,” the first woman said. “That’s Sandy. We were mated to someone, a man, but our family didn’t approve of both of us being mated to the same person,” she added bitterly.

  “A ménage, eh?” Craig said, winking. “Sexy.”

  She giggled again. “Yes,” she said. “I just hope he’s okay.”

  “Shona? Is that you?” Elvis came into the building, staring around in horror.

  “Hey! Elvis. Hi, fella,” the woman said, smiling at him.