Blood Apocalypse - 04 (21 page)

*****

“Yes, well right now isn’t exactly the best of times,” Major Sheridan spoke softly into his satellite phone. After a brief pause he replied, “I don’t really care, this is far more pressing.” Sheridan listened intently to who was on the other line and it was evident that he wasn’t liking what he was hearing. He exhaled harshly and took a brief moment to compose himself.

“Look, I will see to it. But not until after this mission is complete, do you understand me? You bastards got your pound of flesh and that’s all you will
ever
get again! I don’t care about your keeping up appearances, I don’t care about your damned politics and I damned sure don’t care about your
honor
!” he exclaimed quietly through gritted teeth. “I told you before we came out here that we would take care of this, and we will. But we will do this MY way. If you can’t wait, then you can bloody well feel free to fly your happy arses out here and do it your own damned selves.”

Sheridan listened to the stony silence on the other end of the line and smiled inwardly. It wasn’t often that he could pull rank on his secondary handlers and it felt good when he could. He wasn’t going to play his Ace just yet, but decided he might as well. It would give them something to stew on until his next call-in over the secured satellite phone. “And a little something else I found out that you
might
like to know? Your target entered into an alliance with his own accuser. A BLOOD alliance. And the alliance gave the target
full control
of the accuser’s non fiscal holdings.” He glanced around to ensure that he was still alone and listened to the silence on the line. “It sort of makes you wonder about the accusations made, doesn’t it?”

“It makes no difference. The target is still to be eliminated,” the raspy voice responded.

“I’m sure,” Sheridan replied dryly. A vampire death sentence is a vampire death sentence. And The Council took no prisoners. “Still, it does make you wonder, doesn’t it? The accuser entering willfully into a blood alliance with the very man he accused of killing his father? Handing over all of his power, all of his muscle, basically signing over his allegiance to someone he wanted
dead
? It’s almost enough to make you question the validity of his accusation, don’t you think?”

“Do the job,” the raspy voice said just before the line went dead.

Sheridan smiled as he turned off the phone and stuffed it back into his duffle. He sighed and shook his head. He hated the position he found himself in, but it couldn’t be helped. Part of him hoped that the upcoming battle would do the job for him and he wouldn’t have to dirty his hands. His closest friend on the yank team…hell, on
any
of the teams, had grown quite close to his target. And he didn’t know if he’d be able to pull off the assignment with all the people on this base. The battle would be his best chance. During the confusion that major battles always caused, he could possibly slip in close to the vampire, and while his attention was elsewhere, end his undead life.

Sheridan stalked back to his room amidst the other team leaders’ rooms and stuffed his duffle in the storage locker. He was just about to sneak back out when Jack appeared at the door. “Hey, Sherry, wanna catch a bite to eat? I was gonna grab Nadia and snag a little something. I thought it would be a good time to let the two of you get to know each other.”

Sheridan shot him a smile and nodded. “Sure, mate. I was going to shower and change, but I could skip that if you don’t think she’d mind the smell?”

Jack wrinkled his nose. “Shower first. Nobody wants to smell your Brit funk, dude,” he joked. “Besides, I have to track her down first. I think she’s off doing girly stuff with her mom.”

“Excellent. Meet you in twenty?”

“Catch you then.” Jack disappeared out the door.

Sheridan exhaled a deep breath and leaned against his locker. He shook his head and thought about the situation and fought the urge to put his fist through something. Instead, he grabbed a towel and stepped into his private shower.

*****

As Jack exited the barracks Nicolo Adolfo caught up to him and clapped his shoulder. “I need your time,” he said breathlessly.

“Sure, but I was just about to find my wife and eat,” Jack replied, obviously distracted. “What’s up?”

“We have…” Nicolo waved his hands in the air animatedly, “special weapons?”

Jack shook his head, not understanding. “We use subm
achine guns and pistols for the most part. And the silver nitrate grenades, the UV grenades—the same gear you guys have.”

“No, no, no,” Nicolo said, obviously frustrated and stru
ggling with his English. “Coming here. Now. From the EU. Special made for us to use.”

Jack’s eyes lit up with understanding. “Oh! You have sp
ecialty weapons arriving
here
.”

“
Sí
!” Nicolo exclaimed, then corrected himself. “I mean, yes. We have them air freighted here. Arriving soon.” He turned toward the runway and gestured again, “But who do we speak to about…this?”

“About the freight arriving or the weapons themselves?” Jack shook his head.

Nicolo smiled at him and nodded. “I suppose, both.”

Jack pointed to the HQ building. “Up those steps and inside. Colonel Mitchell’s office is on the right, or the XO’s office is on the left. His name is Mark Tufo. He’s a really
nice
guy. He can get you set up with whatever you need.” Jack gave him a sly grin. “Tell him I sent you.”

“
Grazie
, Jack!” Nicolo clapped his back as he turned and headed to the HQ building.

Jack followed him with his eyes a few moments before shaking his head and snorting. “Yeah, don’t thank me yet.”

Nicolo entered the HQ building and found Mitchell out of his office. Tufo was just returning to his office sporting a new haircut and his face neatly trimmed. He didn’t like it, but he had done it. He found it irritating, to say the least. He liked his face ferret just fine, and trimming it set his mood meter all the way past ‘grouchy’ and hovering near the edge of ‘psycho’. Now his face was itching and the damned thing was poking his skin every time he spoke. But he’d be damned if he ended up shaving it.

“Excuse please, you are the XO, yes?” Nicolo inquired.

Mark turned, his eyes just short of wild. “If not then I guess I’m breaking into his office.” His comment fell short as it didn’t register with Nicolo. He sighed and barked, “What?”

“Well, sir, we have a shipment of special weapons coming soon that is too aid us in the defense of the vampire,” he e
xplained. Mark simply stared at him blankly. Nicolo felt it best to continue, “We are wondering where we should put these weapons?”

“If they were up your ass with a ham sandwich, you’d know…” Mark muttered as he finished unlocking his door and stepped in.

“
Scusi
?” Nicolo shook his head in confusion.

“Come on in,” Mark barked. He stepped behind his desk and fell into his chair. With an animated sigh he trained his eyes on the Italian operator. “Okay, pal. Tell me about your special guns.”

“Well, sir, they are special made—” Nicolo began.

“You already said that.” Mark interrupted. “What makes them special?”

“They are like…an orange?” Nicolo replied.

Mark sat up and looked at him. “They are
like
an orange, or they
are
orange?”

Nicolo blew out a breath hard in frustration. He glanced around Mark’s spartan office and noticed a baseball sitting in a bookshelf. He hopped from his chair and grabbed the ball. “Hey! Careful with that! That’s an autographed Red Sox—”

“They are like this!” Nicolo exclaimed.

Mark slowly rose from his chair as Nicolo held the ball out. He took the stand the ball had sat in and placed it on his desk then carefully placed the ball back on top. “The man sits inside and the…
orange
…rotates to the sides…or up and down. And can shoot at the vampiro!” Nicolo excitedly explained.

“The shooter sits
inside
an enclosed cockpit and has controls for the weapon?” he slowly asked.

“
Sí
! I mean, yes!”

“What caliber is this weapon?”

“She is .50 caliber, based off the BMG sniper round,” Nicolo said proudly.

Mark let out a low whistle. “Effective range…over a mile.”

Nicolo nodded. “
Sí
. And with computer-aided view screen.”

Mark glanced up at Nicolo. “Silver ammunition?”

“Of course.”

“Who made it?”

“Fiocchi. Who else? They make all of our silver ammunition,” Nicolo replied.

“Seriously?” Mark raised a brow. “We have one little mom & pop place make ours. That sucks that Fiocchi makes yours and we didn’t even know about it.”

“It is a special division,” Nicolo answered matter-of-factly.

“How many of these things do you have?”

“Six. They will be arriving this night.”

Mark nodded. “Any opposition to training our base security to use them?” Nicolo’s eyes widened on that and he started to protest when Mark held up his hand. “Look, I’m not trying to steal your toys, but the fact of the matter is, we have a couple dozen non-augmented, but highly trained personnel available and no place to put them. I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out how we can best utilize them.”

Nicolo sat back down and motioned for Mark to continue. “If you and your men train these guys in the
proper
way to use these…canons, they can have an operator for the weapon and the rest of their men can act as support for each weapons station. They can defend the weapons site, feed ammunition…whatever. But the point is, they’ll be useful.”

Nicolo listened carefully and nodded. “You make good sense, Major.”

Tufo gave him a questioning look then remembered the insignia on his collar. “So you’re open to the idea? Because we’ve been running these guys through training protocols with a lot of our guys and…” he snorted in disgust, “honestly, they just aren’t measuring up.”

“But they are not augmented, as you say.”

Mark leaned forward and stared the man down. “Son, I’m twice their age and unaugmented and
I
can run the gauntlet.” Nicolo’s eyes widened at that comment. “These security guys are decent. They’re trained, and some of them think of themselves as commandos, but truth be told? They’re not half as tough as they
think
they are. We need to do something with them where they can be productive and not get themselves killed.”

Nicolo nodded and cracked a grin at him. “Very well, M
ajor. We shall train these men and make them proficient in killing with our weapons.”

“Nice.” Mark scratched at his freshly trimmed face.

15

Viktor paced with nervous anticipation. He could sense the upcoming confrontation and the adrenaline was free-flowing through his system. “How far out are they?”

Max gave him a sidelong smirk and rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry. My ‘traitorous bitch’ GPS isn’t working today,” he muttered. “They’ll get here when they get here.” Then he actually yawned and stretched. Viktor stared at his father and wondered how the man could appear to be ready to fall asleep at a time like this.

“But they’re close, yes? You said they were close.” Viktor continued his pacing as Maxwell continued to ignore him.

“As I said, I can sense their arrival. Exactly
where
they are or
when
they’ll get here?” Max shrugged, his head tiled away from Viktor, his eyes still closed.

Viktor stretched his neck, popping the tension out and co
ntinued to pace the underground warehouse, the other wolves giving him a wide berth. Max sighed heavily and slumped against the concrete pillar supporting the giant ceiling. He didn’t regret sending Natashia and Nadia away to prevent them from becoming a distraction. He could feel the power building in his son and part of him felt pride while another part was annoyed that he couldn’t control his angst.

“Will you at least try to calm yourself, son?” Max asked. “You’re wound so tight that you’re going to pace a path through the floor. You’re making me exhausted and I have no dog in this fight.” Viktor shot him a dirty look and Max shrugged. “Well, so to speak.”

“How can you possibly remain so calm?” Viktor growled.

Max shrugged again. “Son, I washed my hands of your mother a very long time ago.” Max pushed off the pillar and stretched. “You were too busy trying to obtain First Order Lycan to really remember, but I had been miserable for centuries. When I left her…as far as I was concerned, she was dead to me.”

“Why not just banish her?” Viktor asked, his brows knitting in confusion.

“For what?” Max asked. “She hadn’t broken any rules tec
hnically.”

“But you were the Alpha, you could have—”

“It was far easier to simply walk away.” Max shook his head. “I even thought of remarrying a time or two, but…”

“You are mated!” Viktor exclaimed, advancing on his f
ather. “You could not mate again even if you wanted.”

Max chuckled. “The rules are not the same for me as they are for the other wolves. True, your mother is mated, but I am not. That is why she plays her little games and keeps her ‘pets’ so close. She has no clue what I may or may not be up to, so she does her best to tempt me to…”

“How do you know what she does?” Viktor asked suspiciously.

Max shot him a sly smile. “Do you think that just because I left the pack that the pack left me?” He smirked as he a
pproached his son and draped an arm over his shoulder. “There are wolves in the pack who report to me regularly her actions.”

Viktor’s jaw set and began to tick. “Yet you say you knew nothing of our exile.”

Max stared into his son’s eyes. “I didn’t. Of those who report to me, everything I was told was petty actions of Victoria’s. I
was
told that you and yours were doing extended duty as security somewhere, but they didn’t know where…” he trailed off. Viktor’s eyes narrowed as he studied his father’s features. “If I had known what was really going on, it wouldn’t have lasted,” Max assured him.

Viktor nodded and started to step away to resume his pa
cing. “Viktor, I know you…
respect
, this Thorn. And, I’ll admit that I’ve learned to…soften my opinion somewhat of certain vampires since meeting him. But had I known then what I know now, you would never have been sent there in the first place.”

“We had an agreement with the
Beastia
, father. Something that was entered into while you were still Alpha.”

“It was never meant to put our people into
slavery
!” he growled.

Viktor shook his head. “It’s not slavery, father.” He met his father’s gaze. “You know that.”

Max exhaled deeply and nodded. “It was never meant for members of…”

“Of what?” Viktor stiffened. “Royalty? The Alpha family? What?”

Maxwell shook his head again in frustration. “Why do you insist on making this more difficult than it should be?”

“What’s good enough for the lowliest of pack members is good enough for the Alpha. Remember those words?”

“When applying the
rules
, yes. You are correct,” Max retorted.

“And the
rules
state that we provide security for the
Lamia Beastia
,” Viktor stated matter-of-factly.

Max tossed his hands into the air and stared off over Viktor’s shoulder. “
Touché
.”

“It doesn’t matter now anyway,” Viktor said softly. “Once I’m done and I’ve reclaimed my rightful position, I intend to r
eturn to the island anyway.”

Max turned sharply and stared at him. “What?”

“You heard correctly.” He squared his shoulders  “I have duties there that require my attentions.” Max felt his jaw drop as he stared at his son. “I am Rufus’ Second. That is not a responsibility that I take lightly.”

“You would be Alpha of the pack. And you would give it up to be a
second
to a vampire?”

“No. I won’t give it up.” Viktor offered a wry grin. “I’ll fill both positions at the same time. I’ll simply assign my own s
econd that I trust to handle Pack matters while I finish my duties with Rufus.”

“And who would you pick to be your second for the pack?” Max asked, genuinely curious.

“What does it matter to you? You walked away, remember?” Viktor turned his back on him.

Max feigned indifference and turned away. “I was only as
king. Curiosity and the cat…”

“I have a few in my mind.”

Max smiled to himself as his back was turned to his son. “I suppose your new son-in-law could make a good second,” he mused.

He didn’t have to guess at Viktor’s reaction to that comment judging by the amount of cursing that happened behind him.

*****

Jack and Nadia walked slowly back to their barracks when Nadia suddenly pulled Jack back a step. “Wait, Jack.”

“What?” he asked, looking around. Nadia pointed directly in front of them, but Jack didn’t notice the wavering motion until Horith stepped out in his path. “Sweet Mary, mother of…” Jack exclaimed.

“Chief Jack, I bring word from the Wyldwood,” Horith sta
ted.

“Horith, you startled the life out of me.”

“I tried to warn you.” Nadia set her hands on her hips.

Horith stood still, staring at Jack, waiting for him to reco
gnize his statement.

“Oh, yeah, so what does Loren have to say?”

“She sends word that the emissaries have returned and they have successfully recruited a number of
others
.”

Jack gave Horith a wide eyed stare. “Others?”

Horith searched for the proper word and simply replied, “Other than human?”

“OH!” Jack nodded. “Excellent. Did she happen to say who agreed to help?”

“No, but they will be coming here in two days.”

Jack nodded, then thought aloud, “That’s just before the full moon.”

“Yes. In time,” Horith stated proudly.

Jack was wishing they had more time to plan, to stage, to practice, to…
everything
. But at this point, they’d take whatever they could get. “Very well. I’ll let Colonel Mitchell know.” Horith nodded and turned to go when Jack asked, “Can you let me know before they get here? So that we can prepare for their arrival?”

Horith paused and nodded again. “I will find you again b
efore they do.”

“Thank you, Horith,” Jack said. He and Nadia watched as he stepped back into the nothingness that was the doorway to his world. Jack turned to Nadia and said softly, “What I wouldn’t give to be able to do that.”

“It would be most helpful in battle,” she noted.

“Not to mention escaping from an angry spouse…” Jack teased.

Nadia pulled him closer to him and gripped his arm hard. “I’ve not been angry with you, so you’ve no right to say such things,” she chided.

“You’ve not had to endure labor yet. You’ll be questioning my parent’s marriage before it’s over, I’m sure.”

She shot him a flat stare that wiped the silly grin from his face. “What? I was just playing.”

“Never tease an expectant mother,” she stated. “It isn’t good for your health.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said softly as he pulled her closer to him.

They continued toward the barracks, but more slowly as Jack rubbed at her back. “Tell me, at what age do natural born wolves begin to shift?”

Nadia leaned against his shoulder and answered softly, “Soon after puberty,” she said thoughtfully. “The moon will make its call first and then they will slowly learn to control it.”

Jack remembered that werewolves didn’t age. At least, not at the same rate as normal humans. “And when is puberty?” He expected her to say at fifty or seventy-five years old.

“Normally around the thirteenth or fourteenth year. But some earlier. Some as early as eleven.”

He stopped and turned her to look at him. “I thought…” he paused, “but don’t wolves age much slower than normal h
umans?”

She smiled at him as a mother might a child who asked why is the sky blue or why is water wet. “A child ages normally until after puberty, Jack. Once they have passed puberty, the aging slows greatly.”

Jack blew out his breath. “Well, that’s a relief. I couldn’t imagine having to deal with the terrible two’s for like…a
decade
. Or worse, our kid having to go through puberty for a couple of centuries. Could you imagine acne and a cracking voice for a hundred years?” he mocked. “That would be hell in itself!”

She shook her head and smiled at him. “No. Those who consider the wolf a burden would never endure such things.”

He gave her a questioning look and she continued. “There are those who consider the wolf a…curse. Or a burden. Not the gift that it truly is.” She tightened her embrace on him. “Not many, of course, but some. And of those few, the life of a wolf is most troublesome.”

“How’s that?” he asked. “I mean, I get the whole shifting and animal instincts and that, but why is it so difficult for them? Was there nobody there to teach them?”

“
Non
. They simply cannot accept the wolf within them.” Her voice had taken on a tinge of sadness as she replied. “They cannot accept the duality of the situation and it tears at them.”

He nodded and instantly thought of Mitchell. “I think I can understand.”

*****

When the semi stopped, Barbara almost didn’t step to the door to speak to the driver, but when you are in the middle of nowhere and the truck was the only vehicle in over an hour, she hedged her bets. She approached the truck cautiously, her hand on the pistol in her bag the entire time. She saw a man leaning over to the window, his greasy ball cap sitting slightly askew.

“Where ya headed?” he asked, his smile instantly disarming.

“Oklahoma.”

“Got a load going to Tulsa. I can give you and the boy a lift if you want.”

Barbara looked down at Bobby and could tell the child was both physically and mentally exhausted. Her sixth sense raised no alarms, but she feared that she was so tired that it might well have failed her. She glanced back at the trucker and nodded. “Thank you. We really appreciate it.”

She opened the door and helped Bobby with his pack to climb up into the cab of the semi. She followed and practically fell into the passenger seat. She no sooner shut the door before the trucker put the tractor into gear and took off again. “My name’s Rob. What’s yours?” he asked, his infectious smile never wavering.

Barbara eased her grip on the pistol in the bag and relaxed a bit. “I’m Barbara. It’s very kind of you to pick us up, Rob.”

“Aw, ain’t nothing. Figured y’all could use a ride being out here in the middle of nowhere. Besides, I could use the company. The radio does a lot of talking, but if I talk back, people think you’re nuts,” he cracked.

Barbara smiled at his remark but was too tired to drum up much conversation. Rob glanced over at Bobby. “So what’s your name, little man?”

Bobby had never been in the cab of a big truck before and his little eyes were wide with wonder. They darted from all the switches on the dashboard to the overhead consoles to the numerous compartments between the forward portion of the cab and the sleeper. “Oh, um, I’m Bobby.” He was still staring at the different lights and buttons and levers.

“Bobby, huh? That’s a pretty good name. Short for Robert, ain’t it?”