The buildings beside the LZ were being recovered and rebuilt into a proper barracks to house the entirety of the Force de Guerre. The motor pool was on the back side along with the lake. That gave the FDG the most options for a quick response.
Especially since they had their own pod.
They wanted to build a hangar for it but were at a loss as to how to do that without heavy equipment. They had the steam engine and the train, but that wasn’t a crane or a bulldozer.
Ted looked at it as he walked past on his morning stroll to the power plant. He heard what the others were saying, but none of it made sense.
None of them were engineers, and they had yet to ask for engineering help. Ted couldn’t understand why.
“Just use the pod,” he said matter-of-factly and walked away.
Lieutenant Boris, Sergeant Allison, and the newly promoted Corporal Ayashe looked at each other. They seemed to be happiest arguing about how to build the hangar. Once they had their answer, they felt stupid.
“Son of a bitch,” Allison whined before the others burst out laughing.
“Fucking engineers,” Boris added, but he knew Ted was right. “Let’s ask Timmons and Shonna when they come by, then we’ll go find what we need, stage it here, and get someone who can fly that thing to help us put this together. We’ll have to get clearance from the colonel. He looks at the pod like it’s his baby.”
Ayashe nodded knowingly. Because of her parents, she’d spent a great deal of time growing up with Terry, Char, and their children. Kim and Kae had been her babysitters too many times to count. She’d practically been raised in the Walton household.
Ayashe understood how the colonel felt about having his own transportation because he loved nothing more than not having to count on others to do his bidding.
Being mobile had always been a goal of his, from horses to wheeled vehicles, to sailboats, to the pods.
They’d used the pod one time so far and the results, in Terry’s mind, were spectacular. He called his new strategy “search and destroy.” With Akio’s help, they located and mapped groups of people where Forsaken might be present.
Terry’s tactics were to then fly over the area late at night and let Joseph and the Were folk do their thing.
If they pinpointed a Forsaken, they would do a quick reconnaissance using FDG assets that wouldn’t necessarily alert the Forsaken, and then they would swoop in. The tac team made up exclusively of Weres would surround the Forsaken, corner it, and finish it off.
Terry was pleased with the one time they’d executed the new tactics.
Ayashe wanted her chance but knew that she needed to train more, get stronger and faster. “When’s training?” she asked. Boris and Allison looked at her oddly.
“Maybe we’ll cancel it while we’re figuring out what we need for the hangar,” the new lieutenant replied.
The corporal was shocked. “We never cancel training!” she exclaimed. “Let me run it while you guys get into a circle jerk.”
“At ease, Corporal!” Allison ordered, frowning at the insubordination.
Boris started to laugh. “I guess you’re right. Leave it to us grunts to take all day doing something the engineers can do while they’re eating lunch. And we wouldn’t do it half as well. Allison, run the plan of the day. Five-mile run, followed by hand-to-hand combat training. Black-belt-level.”
“Aye, aye, Lieutenant!” Allison replied and ran for the new barracks where he’d stashed his training gear with Corporal Ayashe close behind.
CHAPTER TWO
Terry stood on the shore, looking at Lake Michigan. It was going to be yet another beautiful day. Char and Cory strolled toward the docks where there was a small sailboat for their use. It was a community asset, but very few people were comfortable sailing on the open lake. Terry liked to go out to clear his head, plan his next adventure.
Of course, he did that best with Char because they could twist a puzzle in their minds, take it apart, and put it back together in a new way. Char’s and Terry’s views were mostly aligned, but then he needed the viewpoints of someone who looked at the world differently, like their kids.
Cordelia was a natural. Kimber and Kaeden could also strategize at the highest levels, looking at the issues as unenhanced children born after the WWDE. They knew what there was to know about the Unknown World, but they were still outsiders. Cory was born with the nanocytes. Her enhancements were natural, as well as different than those of Terry or Char.
She was a little stronger and faster than an average human, which could have been due to being raised by two workout fanatics. She healed more quickly, and that was her real gift. Ever since helping Akio with his horrific injuries sustained in Mammoth Cave, her eyes glowed blue.
At all times, no matter what.
Terry’s and Char’s eyes only glowed when they were extremely agitated. Spitting mad, they called it.
Behind them, Aaron and Yanmei were walking, hand in hand. Fu was nowhere to be seen as she was spending less time as Yanmei’s servant and more time as Gene’s girlfriend. Terry had expected that, but he knew about free will. Yanmei had not understood it.
Given a taste, Fu had fully embraced it.
“Gene?” Terry wondered aloud. He was a massive brute and Fu was five foot nothing and a hundred pounds. He shuddered to think about it.
Char and Cory both heard him. They had turned and were watching.
“I swear, you two could be twins,” Terry said softly, but he had to get his dig in. “But someone has you by about a hundred and twenty-five years.”
Char squinted at him, pursing her lips as she contemplated her next move. Cory watched her mother. With a barely imperceptible nod, they bolted straight for Terry. He almost fell over backward as he tried to turn. They caught his arms and dragged him backward.
They wouldn’t let him get his feet underneath him as they ran for the water. With a final hop and choreographed toss, they hiked Terry past the rough shoreline and into the clear water. He missed as he tried to grab them and pull them in with him.
He took it like a champ, backstroking into the lake, before turning and kicking toward shore. The water was cool but comfortable. Terry didn’t see his dunking as a loss in the never-ending contest of his life, but an arrow in his quiver of paybacks. He’d wait, and when the time was right, he’d deliver a well-targeted practical joke that would demonstrate his overall superiority.
Most likely, he’d be found out, confirming his position as second best. He preferred it that way. Making Char or Cory look or feel bad wasn’t in his nature.
He strolled casually from the water approaching the two women who both stood with their arms crossed, watching him warily.
As he got close, they dropped into fighter’s crouches. Terry held his hands up in surrender. He removed his shirt and shook his head, tossing his wet hair and sending a stream of water in an arc around him. He started to unfasten his pants.
Cory turned and bolted. Char stood up straight, crossed her arms, and gave him her best disapproving look while keeping her eyes on her husband and his magnificent body.
“Well, if you aren’t going to fight fair…” He let the thought trail off.
“Ahem,” Aaron grunted from nearby.
Terry started refastening his pants while trying to give his wife the “we’ll pick this up later” look. She wasn’t watching, so his efforts were wasted.
“Have you noticed the hem lines are getting shorter?” Aaron asked.
“What the hell are you talking about? Who has hem lines?” Terry was confused. Char chuckled and shook her head, finally returning her gaze to TH.
“Just making conversation,” Aaron said. Terry had known the Weretiger a long time, but he’d never seen this side. Aaron was a funny guy.
All he needed was someone to bring that out.
Yanmei was a perfect fit for North Chicago. She was comfortable around crowds of people, although crowds after the WWDE were nothing like what she had grown up with in C
hina. The others readily accepted her, as they had all the beautiful Were women who joined the community.
And everyone knew Aaron as the teacher and appreciated what he did for youth and the future. He’d always carried a tinge of sadness, and despite the best efforts by some of North Chicago’s sharpest minds, nothing had worked to make him happy.
Nothing, until Yanmei showed up. Tigers needed tigresses. Nature dictated the terms for Aaron, and he had been a slave, every bit as much as Yanmei had been a slave. When free, they reveled in being free together.
“Did we miss something?” Yanmei asked in her singing tone.
“No. Terry wanted to go swimming, deciding to take his clothes off afterwards. I swear, sometimes he’s as dense as a post.” Char winked at her husband.
“I think someone is going the right way for a smacked bottom,” Terry countered.
Yanmei blushed. Aaron squeezed her hand, raising his eyebrows at North Chicago’s leading couple.
“What’s next, TH?” Aaron asked.
Not many people got to call him that, only his friends. He considered all of the pack as his closest friends. They’d gone into battle with him, again and again. They’d all come after him when he was in Kirkus’s prison.
Even Ted.
Terry smiled. Joseph also called him TH. The Forsaken had come too, and gotten horribly injured for his efforts. Terry couldn’t forget that, even though they were hunting Forsaken and engaging with extreme prejudice. Joseph seemed okay with it, but Terry had to wonder.
Would his war with the Forsaken claim an unwitting victim?
***
“Uncle Joe!” Cory yelled. Terry didn’t know why, but it still got under his skin. Not because Cory was calling the Forsaken “Uncle Joe,” but because he had told Joseph that he would never allow it.
That had been a long time ago. Twenty-five years. He wondered if Joseph even remembered his dictates.
His daughter surely did not. Still, he could ask for no better. She was enhanced, but not enhanced. She effortlessly crossed from the Unknown World to the world of humans, despite her wolf ears and glowing blue eyes.
She watched her father to make sure he rolled his eyes, and she was not disappointed.
Joseph appeared under the overhang of the new FDG barracks. The warriors hadn’t moved in yet, but a few of the regulars hung out there. Joseph found he liked the new digs. There was a basement without windows that he’d made into a home away from home.
Joseph was a daywalker, but preferred to be inside when the sun was out. He was prone to sunburns, even though he wasn’t a ginger. He smiled at his own joke, before stepping into the daylight and grimacing from the effect.
Cory impatiently waved at him.
When he reached them, he dipped his head slightly in greeting. “How may I be of assistance?”
“Uncle Joe. I was thinking that we need a two-pronged assault on the Forsaken. One is the hammer. The other needs to be the carrot. What would a propaganda campaign look like to get them to come out into the world, find peace with the FDG?” she asked pointedly.
Terry had already asked that question, and they hadn’t been able to find an acceptable answer. In all cases, the Forsaken would want to feed on humans. Once they’d gotten a taste for it, very few would be able to step away from the addiction of human blood. Joseph had been able to, but he was the exception to the rule and they accommodated him with cattle when the normal way of eating wasn’t satisfying enough.
“I really don’t know. I’ve tried to woo them with my winning personality, but they don’t seem to be buying it. ‘Repent and live,’ I tell them, but they think they are invincible. It’s an impossible mountain to climb,” Joseph replied.
“What won you over?” she pressed.
“I wanted to live more than I wanted to feel the power from human blood,” he replied simply.
“And they don’t? That doesn’t make sense to me.” Cordelia shook her head, throwing her black hair away from one ear. The fur caught a few strands, keeping them from joining their fellows lying flat behind her ear. Joseph’s eyes darted to it and back, but she caught him.
“Will you people ever stop looking at my ears?”
Terry and Joseph both froze in place, wondering if the wrath of the T-Rex had been unleashed.
“Overwhelming force?” she continued. Terry and Joseph both started breathing again and tried to look casual.
“We tried that in LA, but they wanted to play fart games,” Terry answered.
“The snipers shot them with silver bullets first,” Cory pointed out.
“It changes the dynamic. At that point, I suspect my brother was convinced that he was going to die anyway.” Joseph tipped his hat to Cordelia.
“Thanks, Uncle Joe,” she said, looking at her father.
He rolled his eyes yet again and shook his head.
“Overwhelming force without the force. If we give them too much rope, they’ll try to hang us with it.” Terry wasn’t convinced that the Forsaken could be turned, despite the fact that Joseph was standing right next to him.
Joseph could see it in Terry’s mind. He thought of Joseph as different from the others.
“What will it take for you to look at the others as not so different from me?” Joseph wondered out loud.
“When they stop eating people, as you did, a long, long time ago, my friend. You’re from the old country. You’re a publisher. You are a real person to me. These others? Shallow, self-serving, new to the game, and different. It’s like looking at a bunch of Stalin wannabes. We remove them before they cause too much trouble,” Terry replied looking into the distance as he collected his thoughts.
“Stalin’s name was Josef,” Joseph said softly.
“If I knew you were going to kill thirty million people, we wouldn’t be having this conversation since you’d already be dead,” Terry answered coldly. “Hell, if I knew you were going to kill one person, we’d have issues that wouldn’t end well for you.”
“Maybe that’s the difference, TH. I know you mean what you say. These others, they don’t trust anyone but themselves. I will change my approach, assuming that we’ll be going out again, ‘seek and destroy,’ you called it?”
Terry nodded.
Cory jumped back in. “So it’s settled. Joseph and I will talk with the next Forsaken before you whip out your blade,” she said accusingly. Terry was instantly angry. Cory hadn’t seen what he’d gone through at Kirkus’s hands, what the Forsaken had done to the survivors of Cheyenne Mountain.
Terry’s daughter was a pure heart, a pure soul. He couldn’t stay angry with her for long.
Joseph played with the blade at his side. Akio had originally intended to give the Mameluke, a Marine officer’s sword, to Terry Henry, but decided to give it to Joseph after the Forsaken’s actions in Mammoth Cave. Terry was okay with that as he preferred the shorter cavalry blade. It didn’t catch on as much of his other gear as a longer blade would, even though there was a certain attraction to carrying a Marine’s sword.
Joseph caught Terry looking at it. He slid the sword free of its stainless steel scabbard and handed it, pommel-first to the colonel.
Terry took it, turning it over in his hands. He looked down its edge, appreciating the coloring that only Damascus blades had. He checked the edge with a thumb. Joseph was keeping it well-honed. Terry smiled appreciatively. It was engraved: “United States Marine Corps” with filigree etched lightly in the surface.
“Take care of that. It’s one of the best that the world has to offer,” Terry stated.
“Trade you? I’m not a big sword guy,” Joseph offered.
“But mine fits better with my gear,” Terry replied.
“Wear it across your back and be done with it. You know you want it.” Joseph started undoing the scabbard. He replaced the sword and held it out to Terry while pointing at the cavalry sword.
“Are you ever going to fight someone using your sword?” Terry asked.
“You know
me. What do you think?” Joseph quipped. No, Joseph was never going to start a sword fight.
“Since you’re not going to use it,” Terry replied, quickly undoing his belt and removing the shorter sword. He handed it over and took the Mameluke almost reverently.
Akio had been right when he thought that Terry would fall in love with the sword. Terry carried it in his left hand, grip forward for a quick and easy pull. He shook Joseph’s hand.
Cory put her fists on her hips and glared. When Terry finally noticed her, he knew he was in trouble.
“What?” It wasn’t really a question. Thirty years with Cory’s mother, and he knew the stance well. “I’m sorry, Cory. I didn’t mean it, and I won’t do it again. Honestly!”
“Didn’t mean what?” she asked through pursed lips. His preemptive generic apology had fallen flat. He shook his head and held up one hand in surrender.
“You hijacked my conversation with your drinking buddy!” she declared, stomping one foot and crossing her arms.
“I thought we were done. You and Joseph tell the Forsaken that they should trust me before I kill them.”
“Is that all you heard? You are impossible!” Cory stormed away.
“That’s what I heard,” Joseph whispered.
“I heard that!” Cory yelled over her shoulder.
CHAPTER THREE
The Monterey Peninsula
The Forsaken looked at the dirt covering his brethren’s clothes. The other had traveled hard, running through the night, finding cover for the daytime, then doing it all over again.
He brought news of life and death.
“The hellspawn known as Terry Henry Walton descended on Los Angeles using Kurtherian technology. Only I escaped because I was in the city, enjoying a late-night snack. I was returning when I saw it all go down. They hunted him like an animal! How could they? Are we not superior?” the Forsaken asked.
“We have heard of this one. He isn’t completely human. He’s surrounded by Weres and the true hellspawn, the Queen’s Bitch, Akio. Alone, we can’t fight them and this is why they are successful,” the Forsaken replied, stroking his chin in thought. He sat on a heavily padded recliner, leaning back, looking relaxed.
Nomad Mortis: A Kurtherian Gambit Series (Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Book 8) Page 2