He got up and took stock of his aching body. He had lost condition in the mountains of Uzbekistan and was still not fighting fit. This morning, his head was pounding, he ached everywhere, and his ass throbbed fiercely.
He twisted to look at the mark of Hannah’s claws on his buttocks. The inflamed weals were covered in dried blood and the flesh around them had turned purple. His Hannah had quite a mad on. When had she turned into such a fighter? He recalled how deftly she had tossed him onto the bed and shook his head.
He figured he still had some explaining and apologizing to do. But their instant connection made him optimistic that Hannah would forgive him as soon as he told her what had happened. He was pretty sure she was pregnant. He foresaw a long and happy marriage surrounded by their kids. Life was good.
His shifter genes meant that he healed quickly, but between the brown and Hannah he had taken such a beating the day before that he was going to be sore for a while. Sore but happy. He had enjoyed most of his welcome and his morning erection was an iron spike looking for its lodestar.
Where the hell was she? She couldn’t have gone looking for boar bear, could she? A roar of such jealous fury came from his throat that the chatter of the birds and squirrels stopped and silence enveloped the woods. Jack shifted and went hunting.
He tracked Hannah to the river where she had drunk and fished and bathed himself in its icy depths. He chased a few small trout but gave up before he had eaten his fill. He was desperate to find his mate before she gave herself to some lowdown poaching boar. Didn’t she know she was his mate? He had set his mark on her two years ago and she belonged to him. Forever.
Jack tracked her back to the log cabin and from there into the thimbleberry bushes. He nibbled a few but his quest was more important than his hunger and he set off after Hannah again. The trail ended at the women’s hut. She had not stopped to sniff the brush where boars had scent marked, she had not stopped to mate. And once she had gone in, his nose assured him that she had not come back out. Her scent trail was more than twelve hours old, so she had left him last night.
She had gone home. Without him. This was bad. Not only had she run from her life-mate, but she had taken off with his cubs in her womb. Now he had to find her. He wasn’t giving up that easily.
It took half an hour in the shower with soap and razor before he felt ready to go courting. There was a different guard at the gate than the one who had given him Hannah’s cabin number the day before. It took another huge bribe before this guy remembered the babe in the red SUV who had left the night before. The lecherous look on that bear’s face vanished before Jack’s grim scowl and he handed over her tag number without further comment. Pity. It would have been pure pleasure to teach the lascivious bastard some respect.
Hot on Hannah’s trail, Jack headed for Seattle. He stopped at the first truck stop on I-90 hoping she had needed to eat. He picked up her scent in the parking lot which confirmed she was heading for Seattle. The booth she had sat in was occupied by a couple of skinny guys in gimme hats. The tired waitress deflected his questions after one glance at his black eye. Jesus, she thinks I’m a wife beater.
The waitress was still looking warily at him, so with an effort Jack controlled his urge to roar at the insult and ordered breakfast in his meekest tones. As if he would ever hit any woman let alone his mate! Even if he had not been explicitly taught by his father and older brothers that his first duty as a bear was to protect females, he would have absorbed that lesson long before his first shift. His dad treated his mom as if she was spun gold. And Mom in her turn acted as if Pop hung the moon. That was the kind of marriage he expected with Hannah.
Two of his three older brothers were happily mated. They both had found their heart’s treasure more easily than he and Will and Doug had. He sighed. The military had a way of interfering with true love. He had hoped to be heading to Hanover and his clan’s compound to show off his bride. Instead he was driving hell for leather away from his home town and the reunion he had promised Mom. On cue his phone buzzed.
Sam and Tom and Doug and Will each called to tear a strip off his hide. It was great after so long to be able to talk to his brothers again, even if they were mad at him. Only his twin, Will, had any sympathy to spare. The others thought he should haul his ass home and make things right with Mom and then go chase after Hannah. But he couldn’t take the risk. He knew Mom might get mad but she had to forgive him. He wasn’t so sure about Hannah.
Then his phone rang again, and it was the Corps canceling his leave. Well, shoot and damn.
* * *
Hannah watched CNN openmouthed as a clearly exhausted, battered and wounded Jack Enright stoically answered questions from a roomful of overexcited reporters. His hair had been shaved close to his scalp so that his head wounds were visible. His black eye, torn ear, and bruised jaw spoke of a close escape. His left arm was in a sling.
CNN replayed an earlier clip. Hannah gawked as the President pinned the Medal of Honor to Jack’s chest and shook his hand. Jack stepped back smartly and saluted the Commander in Chief. The President congratulated him on returning safely from his dangerous and arduous mission.
The anchorman announced that Master Sergeant Jack Enright was a twenty year veteran of the Marine Corps. That his mother was Olympic shot putter Katharina Zhadanova who had defected from the USSR in 1976 after winning a silver medal in Montreal. Enright’s twin brother, William, was a Navy SEAL. His older brother, Douglas, had served two tours in Iraq in the Infantry and had been awarded the Distinguished Service Cross.
The camera panned to show Jack Enright’s patriotic family side by side in dignified solidarity. Five men with Jack’s black hair and massive build stared proudly back at the cameras from their position head and shoulders above the audience. Two of them were also in military uniform. All four looked as though they had come from the same damned shifter litter as Jack.
The shortest man was graying, but he was clearly as strong and fit as his gigantic sons. The lone woman was fully as tall and curvaceous as Hannah. But she looked almost diminutive in the protective phalanx of her towering males. She beamed as her son lied to the American people.
Hannah’s cell rang as Jack yielded to the head of Military Intelligence who read a prepared statement.
“It’s him, isn’t it?” said Jools.
“Uh huh.”
“How much of that was true?”
“I don’t know. Not much. For sure he got those injuries at the Sanctuary not Uzbekistan. Just where the hell is Uzbekistan?” demanded Hannah.
“It’s one of the countries that shares a border with Afghanistan,” Jools told her.
Hannah grumped. “Do you think it’s true that’s where he’s been?”
“I dunno. I mean, the fricking President thanked Enright and the other members of Operation Thunderclap on behalf of the American people. He got the Medal of Honor. There must be something to it. He didn’t make that story up by himself. Listen, I gotta go. Secretary of Defense is gonna take questions.”
* * *
In a shabby one bedroom apartment in Juneau, Alaska Pavel Dobronravov, Leskov’s erstwhile lieutenant, watched as Kirill Kovolenko returned from the dead to give a news conference in company with the American president and a room full of men in uniform. He summoned his confederate with a snap of his beefy fingers.
Andrei Alyokin came and peered at the grainy Youtube video on Dobronravov’s tablet. “What is it?” he demanded his mouth full of cold pizza.
Dobronravov started the video again and the pair watched incredulously as Kovolenko stepped forward and received a medal from the president. The news anchor related the story of his mission in Uzbekistan to assist the Uzbeks to root out corruption in their army and bring down the Tashkent mafia.
Alyokin slapped his hand against the table so that the empty vodka bottles rattled and the take out boxes tumbled to the floor. “That bastard,” he shouted. “Can you understand what they’re saying about that bastard Kovolenk
o? How can he be an American?”
Dobronravov shrugged. “It’s crazy. Kovolenko claims he took us down for the Uzbek government. I don’t believe it, Sergei. He was with Leskov when we were ambushed.” He stopped as the dubiousness of his logic occurred to him. “Maybe he and Leskov were in it together.” He played the video again and listened carefully.
“They are saying he got that medal for breaking up the Tashkent family, and for sending Besfamilny, Grekov, and Yesipov to prison for arms dealing and drug trafficking,” he said slowly, trying to make sense of this new information.
Alyokin pulled out one of the rickety chairs, reversed and straddled it. “We need the Russian news channel.”
Dobronravov typed furiously and eventually found the same video with Russian commentary. They both listened in incredulous silence.
“Nothing adds up. Besfamilny, Grekov, and Yesipov were supposedly running the Tashkent operation. But they were paying Moscow dues. We collected for Leskov. You think those were the guys Leskov got to ambush us?” Alyokin asked.
Dobronravov shrugged. “This is all just lies. We thought Uzbek bandits had ambushed us and Leskov also, but suppose it was these men and he and Kovolenko were behind it? Did you notice no one is saying a word about Leskov?”
Alyokin nodded. “I noticed. And nothing about what happened to the heroin, and the guns either. I tell you, Leskov and Kovolenko took that shipment and arranged for the ambush.”
“So where’s Leskov?”
“With the money.”
The two thugs looked at each other. They had been congratulating themselves on having escaped from the ambush and gunfight on the way to Kyrgyzstan that had left the others dead. Of course they had had to take some out their companions, but they had counted on the Uzbek bandits being blamed for those deaths too. They had even managed to sell their cargo in Bishkek, although they had been in no position to drive a hard bargain. Those Kyrgyz bastards had laughed as they offered them a fraction of its worth.
They had realized too late that this money was the only shield between them and the Boss of Bosses. Of course, they had had to abandon the loot they had amassed in Tashkent. They couldn’t just return to Uzbekistan as if nothing had happened. Moscow would blame them for losing the shipment.
Everything they made in Kyrgyzstan had gone to pay their way to Alaska on a series of stinking fishing trawlers. But at least they were alive and had all their body parts, and likely Moscow thought they were dead. Just like they had thought Leskov and Kovolenko were dead.
Even if they now had to work at a fish packing plant and live in a dump, that was better than dealing with Moscow. Living in a dump and not being able to afford a woman was better than the inventive death the Boss of Bosses would order for them if he found out they had double-crossed him. But if Kovolenko and Leskov had escaped to America with five hundred kilos of heroin, they had money and all they had to do was track them down.
“I dunno,” Alyokin said. “Maybe it’s not Kovolenko. This guy’s some kind of soldier. And look at his family, all Americans.”
“You cretin, didn’t you hear them say the mother is that Ukrainian shot putter that defected during the Montreal Olympics?”
“But her name was Zhadanova not Kovolenko.”
Dobronravov clouted his companion. “So is your name Sergei Babikov?” he demanded. “Of course he didn’t use his mother’s name. But now we can find this Kovolenko or Enright or whoever he is, and maybe Leskov. They will pay good to keep their location from Moscow.”
“And Moscow will pay better to get their hands on them.”
They shook hands in triumphant concord.
* * *
“What do you mean, you’re not coming back with us?” roared Edward Enright. “Your mother’s been crying over your sorry ass for two years and you are going back to Hanover to let her spoil your ungrateful hide.”
“Dad I’ve got to make things right with Hannah,” Jack protested. He looked apologetically at his mother who looked dry eyed back at him and shook her head. How could his parents make him feel like a dumb fourteen year old instead of a battle hardened Marine?
“Over my dead body. You’re coming with us if I have to cold cock you and drag your ungrateful carcass behind the car,” Ed told him.
Will coughed behind them. “Keep it down, Pop,” he rumbled, looking around Jack’s motel room. “Press is swarming outside looking for a story.”
He put a hand like a ham on his twin’s shoulder. “Man you are so screwed. Mom’s mad at you. Lady’s mad at you. But do you think she’s going to thank you if you bring those reporters down on her?”
“What do you mean?” Jack asked startled.
Will waved at the window and Jack cracked the curtains to peer into the parking lot. Flashbulbs immediately went off. TV crews with cameras jostled with each other to capture the tiny movement. The occupants of the other motel rooms stood around telling their stories to the reporters, even though Jack knew he had barely nodded to any of them. He swore softly.
“They want a story,” said Will. “They want something a little more colorful than, ‘I have no information on the involvement of the Navy SEALs in Thunderclap.’“ Will laughed. “They want you to tell them how it really went down. And why your handsomer, smarter, stronger brother who’s a damned Navy SEAL didn’t join you in some armed and bloody mayhem.”
Jack shook his head. “You know I can’t speak to the press,” he said. “I gave my word.”
“Here’s what you’re going to do, hero,” Will said. “Sam is going to put your blues on and wear that damn sling, and he and Doug are going to get into your rental and head for Dulles and get on a plane for Portland.
“You are going to put on Sam’s clothes and get into Mom and Dad’s rental and go to Regan with them and get a flight to Seattle. Then you’re going to get in their truck and head for Hanover without making any stops.”
Jack shook his head and tried to speak.
Will held up his hand. “Tom and I will wait a day and then head for Seattle. We’ll get your mate and bring her to Hanover. You can do your fence mending in the Compound. And we can watch.” He rubbed his hands in delight.
“This is a plan not so good,” said Katrina Enright in a voice that brooked no argument. “For why should this young woman go with you two strangers? Instead, I will come with you Will. A mother will convince better than two men.”
Her round and cheerful face assumed a look of deep sorrow. She patted Jack’s arm. “This I will do for you, my son. After you can tell for why we hear nothing for two years, six months and five days.” She smacked the back of his head with her open palm. “For why your father must think you dead.” She smacked him again.
Will smirked. “You are so screwed, bro,” he said.
* * *
Hannah looked through the glass in her front door at the people standing on her front porch demanding entrance. The man looked like her shifter lover, but he was taller, had more hair, and wasn’t bruised. For sure the woman standing beside him was Jack’s mom. Hannah sighed and opened the door.
Katrina Enright, nee Katharina Zhadanova, took one look at Hannah’s face and put her arms around her. “Welcome, daughter,” she said hugging hard. She stood back and looked at Hannah with approval. “My son has chosen good. Only one day and a grandmother I am already.”
Will stood in Hannah’s small hall staring at her as if she had two heads. But he grinned like a fool at his mother’s words. Hannah’s face flamed.
“He told you,” she gasped.
Katrina scowled. “Nothing. That lummox has told me nothing. Two years dead and, even now, nothing.” Genuine outrage quivered in her voice.
Will cleared his throat. “Jack told us he had only had a day of leave before the Corps recalled him to Washington. Mom worked out that he, um, visited with you that day.”
Katrina nodded. “What I say. Already I am grandma. Samuel and Thomas, they already make me grandma many times. Six grandsons and six g
randdaughters. This litter will make more.” She beamed happily at Hannah.
Will shrugged. Hannah was just going to have to deal with Katrina. Mom was a force of nature. He settled back to enjoy himself and examine his future sister-in-law.
“This cake is good. You make for my son?”
“I made it for my clan,” said Hannah weakly.
“This clan is where?”
“Seattle. There’s really just me and my friends Winnie and Jools and their kids.”
“Why for not your family in this clan?”
“I’m an orphan,” explained Hannah, “I don’t have any family.”
Will leaned forward, but he didn’t say anything.
“This is not so good. You will like to be part of our clan in Hanover. Is big clan. My boys, their wives and babies and my cousins from Ukraine. Already Jack is there. You will stay with Papa and me in the big house. Jack can visit.”
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” Will interrupted abruptly.
Hannah shook her head. “I really don’t know much about my birth family,” she said.
Will’s lips twisted wryly but he said nothing. Katrina elbowed him to silence and resumed her interrogation.
Hannah goggled in bewilderment as Katrina planned her life. She protested that she couldn’t go to Hanover. She didn’t want to go to Hanover. And to all her objections Katrina returned sweet smiles, complete agreement, and ruthless determination.
Her Jack was a worthless boar. Jack didn’t deserve a beautiful, fertile mate like Hannah. He was useless, lying bear trash but he was her son, and she had taught him better. He could improve. Already he had a house in the Enright Compound. He had built it himself. Himself and his brothers who were perhaps not so worthless. If he hurt Hannah again, he would answer to his father and to her. Of the two, Hannah figured Katrina was worse.
Bear Fursuits Books 1-4: Bear Fursuits Page 6