Coyote Marked (Wounded Warriors Book 3)

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Coyote Marked (Wounded Warriors Book 3) Page 9

by Kit Tunstall


  "How many?"

  "At least eighteen. You’ll need guns and men at your back."

  Malcolm hesitated, not wanting to introduce inexperienced people into the equation. The men El Jefe offered were experienced in their own brand of warfare, but hadn’t gone up against the super soldiers. "I have my teammates."

  "Eighteen, remember? Let me do this for you."

  Malcolm found it almost impossible to refuse the offer when phrased that way. It wasn't like the men El Jefe offered were actually innocent. They protected their drug trade zealously, and they had likely killed to do so. It wasn't the same as leading lambs to slaughter. "Very well. We’ll rendezvous with you in an hour. Come on foot to avoid using a vehicle that might get their attention."

  "We’ll be waiting."

  He hung up a moment later and slid from bed. He’d worn boxers and an olive-green tank top to bed, so all he had to do was find a pair of camouflage pants and slip on his boots. He decided to don a long sleeve camo shirt as well to offer some protection from fighting. As always, he chose clothes he didn't care to destroy if the need to shift quickly arose.

  After that, he alerted the rest of the team, and they were underway in a matter of minutes, minus Gillian, who couldn't fight at six months pregnant, and Tianna, who had no combat experience besides what she had picked up during the time she and Devon had tracked Loris.

  Aidan was an unknown, but Malcolm didn't register an objection to a man prepared to come with them. They would need every hand available to face off against such a large number of super soldiers, and if Lex trusted him—which she must have if she had chosen him for her mate—that was good enough for Malcolm.

  They moved quietly through the jungle, and it was a trek that would have been impossible for the two humans they’d left behind. Only their keen shifter eyesight allowed them to navigate the tangled foliage and pick their way through as safely as possible. They arrived at the designated meeting spot a little under an hour later, and El Jefe was already there with at least a dozen of his own men, all armed with AK-47s. Malcolm didn't doubt they had been converted to be fully automatic, which might make the men surrounding El Jefe overly confident.

  Clearing his throat, he spoke softly, but loud enough for all to hear. "You’ve never faced anything like these things before. A spray of bullets might knock them down, but they’ll probably get up again. As soon as they’re on the ground, you need to take a headshot. It’s their only vulnerable spot."

  Each of the men nodded solemnly, and Malcolm realized he’d slipped into Spanish without thinking about it. It had been a language he’d learned in the Army, but had reached a conversational level living in Mexico for almost two years.

  "They’re about two kilometers to the southwest, mi hijo," said El Jefe. "You lead us."

  Malcolm nodded and moved forward, his shifter senses guiding him in the right direction. At least a half klick before they saw the things, the smell of them hit him. The super soldiers smelled wrong on every level. They were a combination of human and shifter, but with the bitter stench of artificial intelligence woven through both. He had smelled them many times by now, but he still wasn't adjusted enough to consider the odor something he could take in stride and acclimate to easily.

  Knowing the super soldiers could likely smell them as well, he moved quickly, but more cautiously than ever. Those around him did the same, but the humans weren't as seamless with their movements. They were also hampered by their duller senses and the need to follow behind his group in two lines, requiring the shifters to clear the path for them.

  The jungle was dense, so there was no clearing for them to emerge into. They simply encountered Caswell and his group, and the chaotic state of the jungle was both a blessing and a curse. It provided slightly more cover, but it also made it more difficult to find super soldiers, at least for the humans. They couldn't rely on their noses to tell them which direction to face.

  Proximity necessitated fighting up close, and he wasn't the only shifter to take his animal form almost immediately. All the super soldiers had already transformed as far as they were capable of doing so, and their bitter stench mingled in his nose with the fear underlying the pheromones of the humans behind them.

  To their credit, none of them bolted though. Either they were determined to remove the threat from their territory, or they were more frightened of El Jefe than the super soldiers. They fought straight through, moving inexorably forward while dealing with each threat as it came.

  He faced off against a human-honey badger hybrid, and though the thing was vicious, Malcolm countered every blow with one of his own, forcing the super soldier backward as he marched forward. When an opening came, he transformed one of his paws into a hand and used it to snatch the super soldier’s gun from its holster. It took three shots from the smaller caliber handgun, delivered directly between the eyes, before the thing fell permanently.

  He paused briefly to look around him, evaluating how others were faring. Everyone was in the thick of it, and the humans had stopped firing only long enough to change out their magazines. He saw several super soldiers’ bodies on the ground, and then he was engaging with yet another one as it ran and jumped at him.

  The battle was intense, but brief. In less than ten minutes, they had vanquished the super soldiers, and he had finished off the cheetah-hybrid he had been fighting before looking around to evaluate the situation again.

  All of the others had fallen, and some of the humans as well, but his team members still appeared to be in one piece. Only one continued to fight, and he realized it was Lex. Fight was not quite the right word though. She had clearly subdued her opponent, but she continued to punch and kick at him. From what he had learned from his teammate during her debriefing, she definitely had a right to be the one to end Caswell, but he needed to interrogate him first. "Stop, Lex. Don't kill him yet."

  It was a testament to her training and self-control that she immediately froze, though her muscles continued to tremble. It was obvious the effort it cost her to rein it in and not finish off the man who had held her captive and tried to force her to be his mate.

  As he moved forward, El Jefe put a hand on his shoulder, and he looked at the older man with a questioning gaze.

  "There's a small house near here. It's abandoned, but the cement blocks remain strong, and it still stands. It should suit your needs."

  Malcolm nodded. "Lead the way." He went forward, going to Caswell to lift him to his feet. Aidan grabbed his other arm, and they dragged the half-conscious lieutenant colonel between them.

  After leaving behind several of his men to burn the bodies, El Jefe led them in the direction of the house he had mentioned. They reached it less than ten minutes later, and it was pretty much as the other man had described. It had a rusted metal roof, and cement blocks made up the walls, but it appeared to be structurally sound, and the interior was still partially furnished with remnants of possessions left behind by the family that had once dwelt there. They had likely either fled as the cartel had invaded their area, or they had taken compensation from El Jefe to move.

  Either way, they hadn't taken everything with them, including a rickety kitchen chair. By unspoken agreement, he and Aidan dragged Caswell there and dropped him into the seat. By the time they had his hands and feet bound to the wood, Caswell was starting to come around.

  At first, he seemed confused, but as the seconds passed, the confusion faded from his gaze, replaced by weary resignation.

  Malcolm grabbed a handful of his hair, forcing his head back to look down into the other man's eyes, which were cold and faintly reptilian. If he hadn't already known Caswell’s hybridization was with a bear, he would have been certain it was some sort of reptile species. "Do you know why you're here?"

  Caswell nodded, and then groaned. Apparently, the motion had caused him pain. "I can imagine," he said in a raspy tone.

  "I want specifics from you. Give it to me easily, and I’ll have Lex end you quickly. Otherwise,
we'll draw this out."

  Caswell opened a swollen eye a little wider, seeming to try to glare at him as he tried renegotiating. "I’ll tell you what I know, but you have to promise to let me go."

  Malcolm was aware of the way Lex stiffened, but she didn't verbally reply. He shook his head at her subtly before staring down at Caswell, his expression grim. "There's no scenario where you leave this place alive. You’re a threat to Lex, and the rest of us, and you're going to be neutralized tonight. The only question is how it's done. Do you suffer intensely first, or do you get a humane and quick ending?"

  Author Bio

  Kit Fawkes is the pen name USA Today bestselling author Kit Tunstall uses when writing steamy paranormal (especially shifter) romances. It’s simply a way to separate the myriad types of stories she writes so readers know what to expect with each “author.”

  Kit Tunstall lives in Idaho with her husband and two sons. She enjoys writing several genres and subgenres, but almost everything she writes has a strong romantic element. A fan of post-apocalyptic, zombie, and dystopian books, she prefers to read or view such stories from the comfort of her living room and never, ever in person.

  Website

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