Call of the Wild (24 page)

“My men can drive your trucks, so no worries. That’s handy, what with all the evidence in them. We’ll just stack you up like cordwood in the pick-up beds. You ready to tell me why you wanted to start a forest fire?” Matt asked.

“Just a little pest control,” the prisoner said before laughing.

“Well, do as my agents tell you. They can be real
animals
when they’re mad,” Matt told him before smiling broadly and signaling with his arm.

When they understood Matt’s inference, the prisoners began shouting, screaming profanities and trying to break their bonds as Matt’s men emerged from the trees. It didn’t take long to subdue them again, trussed up the way they were.

The one who’d spoken before couldn’t help bragging in his rage. “You’re just a couple of cops who got lucky. You won’t win this. My people are well prepared.”

“Thanks for the heads up on that; we’ll have to talk more about it later,” Matt said.

The guy was obviously a hothead. He couldn’t help but spout off. Matt would be able to get a lot out of him in interrogation. For now though, he had a different problem.

The prisoner was right. They had to move all these men and take as much evidence as they could with them. Any evidence left out of their sight would be inadmissible in court, the chain of evidence broken.

“Boss, I volunteer to stay behind and guard the evidence. That one Army surplus truck should hold all of them,” he said.

“Let me take a look. You, Rick, and Jenner, keep your eyes on the prisoners. Where are Felix and Chuck?” Matt asked

“They’re checking the woods for additional tangos. In all the confusion, a few might have tried to slip away.”

Matt nodded as he headed to the large truck in question. It was one of those large personnel carriers.
It
must be Army surplus, I’d hate to think this group has links to our military or national guard
. The wooden benches would hold about eight guys to a side. If they squeezed them in, having some sit on the floor, they could fit. When he opened the flap to look inside, a man leapt out at him, firing point blank at his chest.

“Traitor,” the guy screamed as he kept pulling the trigger.

Thank God for Kevlar. And boy, am I glad this asshole is such a lousy shot.

Matt swung his arm up with his weapon and returned fire…his aim was much better. He staggered to his feet as Felix came running out of the woods.

“Boss, you hit bad?” he asked.

“The vest caught the two rounds. I’m going to be bruised as fuck, though…stupid asshole!”

He walked around a little; it was his body’s way of trying to get away from the pain.

“Uh, boss—I think he nicked your arm too. How about I take a look at that?” Felix asked.

Luckily, the bullet appeared to have ricocheted off the vest and grazed the inside of his arm. His brachial artery was intact. Felix pulled the body away from the truck and dragged it over to where the other bodies were laid out. Each of the men had placed an incident camera on their shoulder so all of the action was caught on tape to be added to the evidence.

“Okay, boss, you’re too sore to be emptying out this vehicle. Chuck and I will do it. Why don’t you go over and question the perps,” Felix suggested.

“I think I will. I’m getting too old for this shit,” Matt answered.

When Carrie saw the bruises, he knew he was in for a scolding. He decided his mood was just sour enough to ask a few questions. Walking over to his SUV, he opened the back. Inside, as part of their cover, they had stacked camping and fishing equipment in such a way as to make it visible to anyone looking. He took out one of the folding camp chairs and walked back over to where the prisoners sat on the ground. He would read them all their rights and see if they were dumb enough to talk or if they lawyered up.

As he sat down, he wondered how things were going with the children and the adults leading them.

Aaron was amazed at how well the children were doing. At this point, all of the younger ones, those under the age of seven, were being carried by others. As much as he would have liked to help, if they did run into trouble, he was going to need his hands free.

Marsha and the other team members were still hiking and checking the fringes of the group, making sure there were no stragglers. With this many children, it would be almost too easy for an enemy to pick off anyone lagging behind or along the edges.

Benji had mentioned problems with men in trees. There were definitely enemies in the forest. They were about eighty percent of the way out of the forest on course for Parcoal, West Virginia. Unfortunately, just because they were nearly out of the forest, didn’t mean they were out of the woods.

They had crossed a fire road about a half hour ago, and the smell of smoke wasn’t as prevalent. As much as Aaron wanted to call for an update, he knew he shouldn’t. Maintaining radio silence was imperative this close to their goal and the best plan.

“Okay, everyone, fifteen minute break,” he called out.

They had reached the Gauley River, so they were about three miles out of Parcoal. Once they crossed the river, though, they would be exposed for the next hour. They would be walking parallel to a county road. Aaron wished he’d had the foresight to have the buses meet them closer to their current location. Only he was worried they’d attract too much attention.

Most of the children just stopped and sat wherever they were. Those that had them took their water bottles and went to the river to fill them. Everyone was tired and yet, there was very little complaining. Any whimpering came from the very young, those who blessedly weren’t aware of the danger, only that their mommies and daddies weren’t there. A few of the babies cried to be fed or changed and were quickly seen to.

*****

Benji was on the ridge, overlooking the place he believed Aaron to be. He was walking north, up the spine of the hill, stopping now and then to listen and look around. Once again, it was the sharp-eyed owl that spotted trouble before he did. This time, he was looking at the tree tops, but the menace was closer to the ground.

They were so close, the owl didn’t hoot. It leaned over and pecked his cheek. Since this was the first time the owl had touched him, other than to hold on, Benji paid attention. He looked at the owl and then followed its line of sight. There…a hunting blind. Carefully, Benji made his way closer to the back of the blind. He stopped by a tree with low branches, and tried to quietly move the owl to a different perch.

The owl had other ideas, and became suddenly stubborn. It gripped his shoulder tightly, and one talon pierced his skin. Just a pinprick, really, but enough to let Benji know it wasn’t going anywhere. Giving up, he just gave the bird an exasperated look and moved on. More and more, he thought the bird was likely a shifter. Why it hadn’t shifted to heal its wounds was a mystery. The owl probably didn’t trust him. After he took care of this current situation, he’d have a talk with the bird.

The sound of gunshots would carry, so he pulled out his knife. He saw there were two men in the blind and decided to trick them, at least one of them, out of the blind. Tying a piece of clear fishing line to a bush, he played out the line until he was out of sight. Then he tested his shifter theory. Pulling on the line, he shook the bush, making some noise. He pulled on the line again and then held the line up to the bird. He was pleased when the owl took the line in its beak and consented to step off his shoulder.

Holding up ten fingers and miming a countdown, he then moved himself into a better position. It didn’t take long for one of the men to come out and check to see what was rummaging in the brush. Expecting to find a rabbit or other small mammal, he died with a surprised look on his face. Benji had made one thrust through his lung and into his heart. The man couldn’t take a breath…or make a sound. Lowering the body quietly to the ground he moved closer. The second man would be easier; he had his back to the opening of the blind. In one hand he had a radio; in the other, he held a pair of binoculars as he scanned the distance.

Just before Benji made his move, the target lifted his radio and keyed the mic.

“Prey spotted at the river, one klick south of your position. They’re headed right to you—over.”

Benji waited, needing to hear what the man said next.

“Roger that. Horace and I will move in behind them as they cross—over and out.”

Benji didn’t wait and longer. Stepping forward, he put his knife in the man’s neck. Leaving the knife in place until the man’s heart stopped beating. He didn’t want to be covered in arterial spray. He had some more hunting to do, and he didn’t want the smell of blood to give away his position. Dumping the body on the ground he pulled his knife and re-sheathed it. He picked up the binoculars and sat down in the man’s chair. It only took him a moment to see what the man had spotted.

There were children and adults filling their water bottles at the river. The man had said a klick south, so he slowly panned north about a kilometer until he found what he was looking for. Shit, it looked like real trouble. He had better get his ass down there. He couldn’t risk contacting Aaron over the radio, so he clicked his mic in a pre-arranged code. It was short enough so that anyone listening would write it off as static, long enough to send the message.

Moving fast, he made his way back to where he’d left the owl.

“Okay, little owl, I need you at full strength. The tangos have at least twenty men half of them just headed for the children. And the children are headed right to them. I’ll turn my back. You can shift and heal your wing—or…um…arm or whatever, and then you can shift back. I’m sorry. I don’t have any clothes in my pack, although you can borrow my shirt.”

The owl just blinked at him.

“Okay, okay—I get it; trust, then verify. It’s a good way to live. We’ll wait until we’re around a larger group of shifters, maybe then you’ll feel more comfortable. We’re going to be moving fast so hold on tight.”

What he didn’t understand was that Twyla wanted to shift; she just wasn’t able to. She had planned to shift when he left her alone with the fishing line, but she just couldn’t concentrate enough to shift. She was beginning to think she might have a slight concussion. The assholes, shooting off cannons behind her eyelids, were another strong indicator.

She wasn’t looking forward to returning to her clutch injured, either. She couldn’t exactly fly over to where she’d left her clothes. Her brother hadn’t wanted her to come, and she’d come anyway. That’s why she was on her own, instead of having another owl along to watch her back. Now instead of a triumphant reunion, with tales of how she saved the day, she was going to get her ass chewed for not being careful.

So instead of flying, she perched herself back on her soldier’s shoulder. It was a very nice shoulder, too. Too bad she couldn’t see his ass from this perch. Earlier, she’d noticed his was a very fine specimen.

The two of them made their way quickly and quietly down the north side of the hill. Benji was determined to give his brother all possible aid. He didn’t know David’s position. He was unsure if they would be getting any help from that quarter.

*****

Aaron was having a low-voiced conversation with Marsha, when he got the coded message over his mic. He wanted to swear, remembering at the last second to watch his language around the little ones. He quickly called together the other members of his team with hand signals.

“I just got an emergency signal from Benji,” he said softly once they’d gathered around him.

“What did he say?” asked Marsha. “It had to be important to break radio silence,” she added.

“He didn’t speak. It was a pre-arranged signal of clicks on the mic. If anyone had discovered our transmission frequency, they would have just thought it was static.”

“Alpha, I think I fucked up. I wasn’t aware of the radio silence. I’ve been keeping in touch with Matt and my team,” explained one of the two FBI agents.

“That’s not your fuck-up, Max, it’s mine. I should have made sure we were all aware of the plan. When was your last transmission? I need to figure out how far and wide their probable search radius is.”

After he got that information from Max, he pulled out his map and did some quick calculations.

“So—we have two options. We can change direction and make them chase us down through the woods. I have to say, the odds are high we’ll lose some of the children if we do that. It’s too large a group to keep track of continuously on the run,” said Aaron.

“What’s option number two?” Marsha asked. She figured they didn’t have much time to make up their minds.

“We stash all but twenty or so of the kids up in the trees. It’s the middle of summer and the foliage is thick. We’d have to be careful not to knock any leaves to the ground. Then, after the little ones are stashed, the rest of us can proceed forward. We go hunting. At the first sign of trouble, the children who are with us need to scatter and meet up in a pre-arranged location. They have to be fast and agile, even in human form. I’ve noticed we haven’t left much of a trail behind us, which is amazing, when you think of how large our group is. That will help confuse anyone who tries to track us.”

“Shifters learn from a young age how to move through the wild without leaving a trail. They all know this trip is life or death; they’ve been working hard not to break branches or leave signs,” said Ben, the other cougar shifter on their team.