If she couldn’t fraternize, neither could Samantha.
But as Sara excused herself, ostensibly for a restroom break but intending first to stop at the table where Samantha flirted with Jason, she found herself confronted by Cal Brown.
“So what do you think, Sara?” he said. “Are our two units finally getting it—becoming colleagues that get along?”
“Looks that way, Cal,” she responded, not liking the fact that he was blocking her progress. She was between two tables filled with gabbing troops. The only way around was to turn and wend her way in a different direction.
Cal was a large blockade.
Before she decided how best to handle this, Drew rose from the table where he now sat—which again included both generals. So maybe Samantha hadn’t been completely out of line, despite General Yarrow’s orders to mingle.
By then, everyone had finished their meals and had their plates bussed. It was time for coffee, iced tea and for some of them, desserts. But not Sara.
“We have something to go over before you’re all dismissed,” Drew said. “I wanted to let each of you know about something that was just brought to my attention before we sat down here. I don’t know the origin—although my suspicions suggest that some of you particularly excellent marksmen in the USFT might have some ideas. But has anyone recently lost some weaponry and ammunition?” He described the AK-47 that had been loaded and aimed at General Yarrow’s destroyed car. It certainly wasn’t the kind of equipment that Alpha Force members used most often. Nor was it what the USFT shooters had used the other day. But it was undoubtedly accessible to them.
Sara heard whisperings and looked around. Most of the quiet conversations were between members of USFT.
Which suggested that Drew’s question might have the effect of erasing whatever progress had been made here in the joining of forces.
But it was entirely proper, Sara thought. Get everyone off guard, then press for answers.
“What the hell are you doing, Major?” General Myars had risen, hands on his broad hips, and addressed Drew, his round face red and furious.
“Just looking for a few answers, sir,” Drew said calmly. “I don’t suppose you could address them?”
“If you’re accusing me, or anyone reporting to me, Major, you had better retract it. Now.”
Sara saw Drew exchange glances with General Yarrow, who gave a nearly imperceptible nod. “I’m sorry, sir, if you thought that was what I was doing. I would just like to find out any way I can where that weapon came from. If anyone here, from either unit, has any answers or suggestions, please let either General Yarrow or me know.”
The entire group started to disperse then. Most people seemed to get back together with others in their own units.
The supposed camaraderie had been temporary, anyway, Sara figured, and Drew’s comments at the end only precipitated the separation once more.
Sara didn’t plan it, but she found herself walking out the door with Jason.
“So, are you best buddies now with some of those USFT guys?” he asked. “I had fun with them, myself. Although I’m not sure any of them will talk to any of us again after my cousin’s comments at the end. I really liked how he did that. We’re all still under orders to get along, so it’ll be interesting to see how that works now, with them knowing they’re each under suspicion by a bunch of—” he lowered his head to whisper into her ear. A shiver ran through her at his proximity, even though there was nothing sensual about it. Or shouldn’t have been. “—a bunch of werewolves,” he finished quietly. Good thing, too, since they were outside by then, in the restaurant’s parking lot, and it wasn’t just military members who surrounded them.
They’d come in a number of vehicles from the base, and Jason had used the opportunity of visiting town to finally exchange the tow truck for his own classic red Mustang.
“I just hope this doesn’t backfire on Drew, or on General Yarrow,” Sara said. She’d have loved to ride with Jason—to listen to him make light of what Drew had said, and that was all, she told herself.
But discretion was in order. Instead, she stood there with some of the others who had dined with them.
And watched as Jason drove off first.
* * *
Jason understood what Drew had done.
There would be a lot of follow-up conversation, he was certain. He wished he was in a larger vehicle—one where he could invite USFT people on board and eavesdrop on them.
He figured that all shifting Alpha Force members who’d come in vans from the base were using their acute senses of hearing to do that.
Things were tense now. As they should be.
Until whoever had tried to harm General Yarrow, and still made silent threats, was found and stopped.
He wished he had a further opportunity to talk it over with Sara. To get the general’s take on it, he told himself, but that was just an excuse.
He simply wanted to talk to her.
Oh, and if he found some way to seduce her, caress her hot body, kiss those sweet lips...well, that would be fine, too.
Maybe he’d even suggest he needed her help shifting that night.
He hadn’t actually considered doing so before...but what if he hung out in wolf form near that parking garage in case whoever left those weapons decided that, now that a new threat had been discovered, it was time to do more?
And Jason, in wolf form, would be in a perfect position to catch whoever it was.
Especially with Sara as his backup.
It couldn’t fail.
Chapter 18
Sara waited at the curb patiently with Greg Yarrow until the car that had brought them to Mary Glen arrived—a black military sedan driven by one of the Ft. Lukman privates.
Probably one that Jason worked on. It was shiny and had purred on their way downtown before.
She quickly moved her thoughts away from car care—and Jason.
She hadn’t previously considered what she’d be doing that afternoon after lunch. But as usual, she was on call with General Yarrow.
“We’re going to my office,” he said as he held the rear car door open for her. “I’ve already invited Myars and the officers reporting to him. Contact Drew Connell and make sure he’s there, too. We’ll be discussing his tactics.”
Sara used her cell phone to call Drew as they rode toward the base. She’d seen him get into the car that Jason drove. “We’re on our way,” she told him. “General Yarrow wants us to meet at his office as soon as possible.”
“Got it,” Drew said.
Sara hung up. She felt certain that Jason would learn about the meeting, too. But he wasn’t one of those whom the general wanted to see there.
Just as well that Sara wouldn’t see him, either.
* * *
The meeting took longer than Sara had anticipated. She’d figured, from what General Yarrow had said, that it would be a quick recap of what had gone on at lunch—including an explanation of why Drew had decided to push the envelope with the USFT and what, if anything, had been gained by it.
But the representatives of the USFT had a lot more to say than Sara had figured on.
They sat in General Yarrow’s quaint, antiques-filled office, everyone facing the mahogany desk with Greg holding court behind it. Present were the general, Drew and her from Alpha Force, and General Myars and Captain Rynton Tierney from USFT.
Sara knew that General Yarrow intended to run the meeting. But almost as quickly as she shut the door, General Myars began a tirade.
“What the hell makes you think one of my men ambushed your Jeep, Yarrow?” demanded the tall yet flabby officer. “Why would they? And then to think any one or more of them would be stupid enough afterward to point to the USFT by leaving some of our own gear there—especially a weapon that makes them what they are—ridiculous! Someone’s obviously trying to mess not only with you, but with your mind, too—and they’ve succeeded.”
“I asked the questions I did to see the reactio
n.” Drew was at the end of the row of ornate chairs facing General Yarrow’s desk. Now he stood. “Indignation was what I expected—and mostly what I got. There were a couple of your people, though, whose expressions—and scents, by the way—were a bit off. Fear, maybe. Although one, at least, also looked smug.”
“Who was that?” Tierney demanded.
“You.” Drew’s bland expression looked to Sara as if he tried to hide his own smugness.
Tierney denied everything. His face was flushed and his hands were fisted enough to make his muscular arms fill out his uniform sleeves. He did, however, admit to pride in his unit. He wouldn’t protect anyone who resorted to attempted murder to upgrade the USFT’s status at Ft. Lukman, though, if that was what had happened. And if the later game with the AK-47 was to underscore the USFT’s involvement, that was sheer stupidity.
“You know what I think?” Tierney said. “Not only is someone trying to frame us, they’re trying to make sure our two units never get along enough to accomplish a vital mission together.”
“And who would do that?” General Yarrow was a lot calmer than Sara.
“If I knew that, it’d have been stopped by now.”
Sara would have liked to believe Tierney committed the dangerous mischief they were discussing. But she doubted it.
She decided to throw out the other possibility they’d all considered, no matter how unlikely. “Who says it’s someone here on base who’s trying to discredit the USFT and antagonize Alpha Force? I know we’ve kind of eliminated that as a possibility, but what if it is, after all, one of the civilians from Mary Glen?” She looked at Drew, who’d had his own issues with some Mary Glen residents a while ago. “Could it be because you caught whoever was after Alpha Force before? Or because there are others who want the military here at Ft. Lukman to go away?”
“That’s something we need to consider further,” General Yarrow said. “And it’s why I wanted us to have our lunch there today.”
The rest of the discussion that afternoon speculated even more about who might be conducting the nasty shenanigans to distract the military at Ft. Lukman, and how to follow up with the security staff on possibilities.
Of course they reached no conclusions.
Then General Yarrow brought up the main reason for this meeting. “Our exercises the other day came out all right, though not perfect. What I want next is to ramp them up. Perform exercises where the two units don’t just show off their talents to one another, but have to work together—the way they’ll need to if the mission the commander in chief has in mind for our combined troops goes forward.”
Discussion on methodology and how it could be accomplished filled the rest of the afternoon. General Yarrow even had Sara call the cafeteria and get them to deliver the equivalent of a fast-food dinner as the planning continued.
Eventually, the members of both units sounded satisfied with the maneuvers to be held in two days.
The USFT members finally departed the general’s office, leaving Sara there with Drew and Greg.
“What do you really think?” Greg Yarrow asked Drew a minute after the door had closed behind their visitors.
“We have to work with them, even if we’re still not sure we can trust them.” Drew shook his head.
Sara once more absorbed the resemblance between the major in charge of Alpha Force and his cousin, Jason. Their coloration—dark hair with silver highlights, their golden eyes—and even their muscular physiques were similar.
Why was she even thinking about Jason at that moment, in his absence? She felt irritated that Drew Connell brought Jason back into her thoughts.
She had to stop. As the two men in the room continued to discuss strategy for a while, she reminded herself that there was no way someone like Jason could have participated with them.
Eventually, General Yarrow said, “Let’s meet again tomorrow—for less than an hour, I promise. Before that, Sara, please enter our proposed plans onto the computer and print them out so we can go over them one more time before the final exercise.”
“Yes, sir.” And then Sara said good-night and left the general’s office.
* * *
Sara felt stifled. It wasn’t that she didn’t love what she did. And the meeting in the general’s office, being his confidante and assistant—well, that was who she was these days, and she wouldn’t trade it for any other post in the world.
But attacks on the general, disagreements between the two units, other issues she’d had to face lately—including her unwanted attraction to a noncommissioned officer who also happened to be a shapeshifter—she thought about these too intensely. Too often.
She needed a break.
A short one would be fine. And so, after leaving the office, Sara headed not for the BOQ but for the small open-air parking lot nearby where she had left her car.
She was off duty for now. She’d hidden a civilian outfit in the trunk. She could change clothes inside the vehicle and head back to Mary Glen—for a smoothie. Or a mocha. Or something else sweet to perk up her mood.
It was sunset and only a faint glow of sunlight’s residue illuminated the base. Soon artificial lights would flick on.
A few other people were on the sidewalks mostly across the street from her. She saluted or smiled, as appropriate, and kept going.
Nearby she saw the building where noncommissioned officers were housed. Was Jason inside? Or was he off somewhere getting dinner, meeting with other Alpha Force members or doing something she didn’t even imagine?
Like shapeshifting? Tonight?
She wouldn’t be there as his aide, though plenty of others could help. But why would he?
Making notes on a computer was far different—a lot more boring—than handing a shifter a vial of elixir, aiming a light on his naked body and watching him change from the most gorgeous specimen of male human to an amazing, feral yet somewhat tame wolf.
She closed her eyes for a moment at the recollection she tried so hard not to think of. Or to consider Colleen Hodell’s shift from a female human’s body to a cougar’s.
Sara knew full well the old axiom: the more you don’t want to think about something, the more it’ll pound at your mind.
Sighing, she opened her eyes—a good thing since a car, a huge SUV, was driving out of the lot. Cal Brown was the driver. He saw her, too. He grinned and waved and stopped, rolling down his window. “Need a ride?”
“Thanks, no. I’ve got it covered. Have a good evening.” And then she walked on.
Too bad he didn’t attract her in the slightest. If she wanted to take up with someone at Ft. Lukman, Cal, at least, was also a lieutenant. A more or less by-the-book commissioned officer, unlike Jason. She allowed her thoughts to return not to Jason, but to her old college boyfriend who’d gone rogue and tried to get her to take drugs with him, too. And how fast she had dropped him.
By the book was the only way for her.
She reached the last row of cars parked along the curb in the nearly full lot and turned to walk toward hers.
And stopped—as soon as she noticed the broken glass on its far side, near the wall of the adjoining parking garage.
She walked around. On the side of her gold hybrid, deep scratches etched the side.
Some seemed random—but others formed words. Nasty words: Die bitch. Your CO is still alive but you won’t be for long.
The headlight and taillight on that side had been smashed.
Sara bit her lips. Who could have done this?
The obvious answer was that the perpetrator had been whoever had set General Yarrow’s car on fire.
Who’d also aimed the weapon at the remains of the general’s Jeep?
Maybe.
But why target her, too? Because she worked with the general?
She wanted to scream. Instead, she looked around the parking lot, then stopped.
Even if she saw someone, whom could she trust?
The answer came to her immediately. There were several people
here to trust.
But only one was committed to taking care of cars.
She pulled her smartphone from her pocket and pressed the buttons for the number that somehow had gotten programmed in—because she had called it before.
Jason’s.
But the call went into his voice mail before he answered.
* * *
He had gotten shifting assistance from Noel Chuma.
Now Jason prowled in his wolf form.
He had first headed to the garage where the general’s car slept, its remains further violated.
People around here might look for a shifter, but it was still easier for a wolfen creature to crawl low to the floor, hide in smaller crevices, be less obvious.
The place was empty except for cars.
Plus, the guard remained there.
If anyone came to further bother the Jeep, it would not likely be now.
And so, restless and not wanting to shift back yet, Jason now roamed the periphery of the base.
Spotting what—who—he wanted to, he’d stayed hidden as he watched Sara McLinder leave the office building and head toward the parking lot.
Communicate with that ass, Lieutenant Cal Brown.
Then continue toward her car.
Time for Jason to creep away, back to the garage before shifting back.
But he watched Sara a few minutes more.
Good thing he did.
For in moments, he had joined her at the far side of the car.
Even in wolfen form, he understood the desecration that had occurred.
And smelled a hint of whatever had sickened him before while investigating the destruction of the general’s car.
Resisting a howl, he joined Sara at her side and rubbed his furry body against her uniform-clad legs in sympathy.
Chapter 19
Sara knelt to hug the wolf that was Jason. She needed his presence, his comfort. She would prefer it if he were in human form, but his being there for her, no matter what presence he was in, helped her deal with the horror.
“Thanks for being here, Jason,” she whispered. Those tall wolf ears moved at the sound. He nuzzled her cheek, and she sighed. “Who could have done this?”
Untamed Wolf Page 20