Blue Howl (Blue Wolf Book 3) Page 5

  “Well, you know that’s ridiculous.”

  “Yeah,” she replied, but without enough conviction.

  I remembered what Purdy had said about progress on my cure. “I’m being told I could get some leave after this assignment,” I said, deciding that Dani needed to hear something hopeful, even if it was flimsy as hell. “We shouldn’t make any dinner reservations or anything, but there’s a chance.” I’d almost said good chance, but that would be pushing it.

  When Daniela spoke next, I could hear the tears in her eyes. “I know I’m being selfish, but when I had the flu last week, I got so angry you weren’t here to take care of me. To bring me Gatorade.”

  “When I’m back, I’ll bring you all the Gatorade you want.”

  She snorted wetly. “I need to see you.”

  “That goes both ways.”

  I noticed Sarah waving to get my attention. It was time to board the bush planes. With the town’s proximity to Hudson Bay, they would be easier for getting in and out, and they were less obtrusive than Centurion’s attack helos.

  “Dani, I love you so much. I will see you soon.”

  “Okay,” she said, again in that deflated voice.

  “I mean it.”

  Now, sitting in the bush plane, I replayed the phone call from only an hour before. Above the vast, unfolding wilderness, it already felt disturbingly distant. Shades of Daniela’s dream. The thing was, I didn’t need to be thinking about Dani’s or the Blue Wolf’s dreams right now.

  I needed to be mission focused.

  I pulled my gaze from the rugged landscape and turned to where Yoofi was sitting beside me. His eyes were closed, staff gripped in both hands. Sarah, Takara, and Rusty were riding in the plane behind us. A pair of flanking planes carried Centurion soldiers, and a fifth plane, the rest of our equipment.

  “You all right?” I asked Yoofi.

  “Dabu does not like being up this high.”

  “But he’s not going anywhere, right?”

  Yoofi grinned as he squinted one eye open at me. “No, Mr. Wolfe. I told you he will not run away again. Because if he does, he knows I will swear allegiance to his sister Udu, and he does not want that.”

  “All right. Were you able to sleep on the flight up?”

  “A little, yes.”

  “Good, ’cause we’re going to hit the ground running, and I’m counting on you and Dabu—even more so with Olaf out. You were vital to our success in El Rosario, and you’ve made leaps and bounds since.”

  While the other members of Legion ranged from confident to overconfident, Yoofi still got down on himself. Part of my role as his captain was to build him up, not just for his own sake, but the team’s. He had shown glimpses of brilliance in the last two months, and I wanted that to become the standard.

  Yoofi’s smile shone white in his dark face. “I am ready, Mr. Wolfe.”

  I slapped his knee. “I know you are. Just let me know what’s up with Dabu. I don’t want any surprises.”

  “No surprises,” he assured me. “It’s like Sugar Nice say…”

  Sugar Nice was a hip-hop artist Yoofi idolized. I couldn’t wait to hear this one.

  “…I got the situation under control, yo, so just sit back and let me run the show, yo.”

  “I’m counting on it.”

  In another hour, the massive expanse of Hudson Bay appeared beyond a forest of coniferous trees, and our planes descended. We hydroplaned across the water, skiing toward a pier that stood a couple miles from the town. When the pilot secured the plane, I disembarked with Yoofi.

  The planes carrying the Centurion soldiers and our supplies had landed ahead of us, closer to shore. While several soldiers took up security positions, others unloaded our containers and carted them toward a cargo van delivered earlier in the day. The second vehicle for our mission, a passenger van, sat nearby. Both had roof mounts for the medium machine guns we’d packed—something that had been missing from the El Rosario mission. Centurion had actually listened.

  Rusty came up beside me, shoulders hunched to his ears. “Is it gonna be this cold the whole time, boss?”

  Though the late morning sun beyond my visor shone bright from a cloudless sky, the air seeping into my helmet carried a chilly bite. The weather report had shown a strong front surging through later in the day. Having grown up in humid East Texas, I’d never cared for cold weather, but now the wolf in me savored it. “Just wait till nightfall,” I said with a grin.

  Rusty swore through his chattering teeth.

  With the three barrels of my MP88 pointed toward the wooden planks, I walked down the pier. Away to the south, the main pier for Old Harbor was busy with trawlers and people fishing. I’d been expecting someone official to meet us, but the dirt lot at the end of our own pier was empty save for the vans. When I heard Sarah approaching, I turned toward her.

  “I’ve been in touch with Mayor Grimes,” she said. “Our meeting is scheduled for 1300.” I checked my watch. That gave us a little over an hour. “In the meantime, we can start setting up our base of operations,” she continued. “The lodge is two point four miles from here.”

  “I read it as two three,” I said.

  She cocked her head, brow furrowed. “I’m basing that on the GPS and—”

  “I’m kidding, Sarah.” I wasn’t normally a joker, especially at the start of an important mission, but the combination of dense forests, mountainous terrain, brisk weather, and, most crucially, the scent of large game on all sides had the wolf in me feeling exuberant, almost giddy.

  “Oh,” Sarah replied, not amused.

  I chastised myself before turning and waving to Yoofi, Rusty, and Takara.

  “We’re moving out!”

  Fifteen minutes later we were rumbling up a dirt road toward our base, a large timber lodge with an impressive stone chimney. Behind and to the lodge’s left, a cache house for storing winter meat stood about twenty feet from the ground. It would make a good overlook position. An advance team from Centurion had already fortified the lodge’s windows and doors, and as I eyed the garage attachment, I noticed its brand new steel door.

  Fifty meters from the lodge, I had Sarah stop. Rusty, who was following in the cargo van, pulled up behind us. I turned to Takara and Yoofi and activated my earpiece so Rusty could hear me as well.

  “Rusty and Sarah, you’re on rear guard. Takara, Yoofi, and I are going to secure the cabin.” At the pier, I had dismissed the Centurion soldiers to a temporary base twenty minutes away by air. There they’d remain on standby for evacuation and as a quick reaction force.

  This was Legion’s show now.

  “Yes, sir,” Rusty answered.

  We exited the vans and Takara and Yoofi followed me up the dirt road, weapons readied. Amid the riot of smells gusting in from the Canadian wild, I picked out scents left by Centurion’s advance team as well as large animals that had come through. Nothing hackle-raising or fresh, though.

  When we’d closed to within ten meters of the lodge, I gave a pair of hand signals. Takara rose into flight and settled on the rooftop while Yoofi and I split to round the sides of the lodge. In the back, near the cache house, stood an outbuilding that smelled of oil. An enormous pile of cut wood leaned beside it. With Takara providing overwatch, Yoofi and I stacked and entered. By the fuel stains on the floor, I guessed it had once held a snowmobile, but save for a smattering of tools and supplies, the building was empty now.

  Back outside, I scanned the dense forest around us, then craned my neck until I could see Takara on the roof. She propped her M4 against a shoulder to give a “clear from here” sign.

  I turned to Yoofi, who could perceive things the rest of us couldn’t. “Anything?”

  “Yes, Mr. Wolfe, but I cannot yet say what. There is an energy in the air. I felt it when we first touched down. Something…” He screwed up his eyes as he searched for the right word. “Something hungry.”

  “Can you be more specific?”

  “Hey, boss?” Rusty r
adioed. “We’ve got a vehicle coming up the road.”

  I’d heard the distant engine and grinding of tires, but with cabins spread throughout the area, I had blocked it out.

  “On our way,” I said. “Takara, stay where you are.”

  Yoofi and I arrived at the Centurion vans just as the vehicle, an enormous black Chevy Suburban, rounded a corner and jounced into view. Beyond the tinted windshield, I made out a bulky silhouette behind the wheel. The Suburban slowed momentarily, as if the driver had taken his foot off the gas, and then sped up again. Our weapons rose into firing positions, and I could feel the warping effect of Yoofi’s staff. Sighting on the driver’s head, I moved forward so he could see me.

  “Stay behind the vans and hold fire unless I tell you otherwise,” I said.

  The scenario looked disturbingly familiar to the two suicide bombings I’d witnessed at checkpoints in Central Asia. I automatically marked off imaginary lines in the road.

  When the Suburban hit the first one, I dropped my muzzle and popped the road with semi-automatic fire. The vehicle’s body canted forward as the driver slammed the brakes. The front bumper came to a rest just feet from the second line I’d drawn—the one that would have gotten his engine shot to shit.

  I switched my aim as his door opened and a large man jumped out. I pegged him as mid-forties. He was unarmed, but I kept my barrel fixed on him, even as he threw his hands into the air.

  “Don’t shoot!” he shouted. “Are you with Legion?”

  “Who are you?” I shouted back, eyeing his crisp new hunting outfit.

  “I’m the one who hired you. Karl Berglund.”

  Since I hadn’t been able to look through the material Beam had sent, I glanced back at Sarah. She consulted her tablet and nodded. It was him, the boyfriend of the missing woman.

  I lowered my MP88. “Did you come alone?”

  “Yeah, it’s just me. I know we were all supposed to meet with the mayor, but, hell, I couldn’t wait.” Though his voice had an assertive quality, his red-rimmed eyes shifted desperately from one of us to the other. I doubted the man had slept a wink since his girlfriend’s disappearance two days earlier.

  “I understand, Mr. Berglund.”

  “It’s Karl. Call me Karl.”

  Turning to the team, I spoke quietly through the commo system. “I’ll keep Berglund out here while you clear the lodge. Sarah and I will then sit down with him inside. Takara, remain on overwatch. Once the lodge is clear, I want Rusty to find a secure store for the weapons. Yoofi, give him a hand. Then start getting the computers and surveillance equipment installed.”

  As the team moved off, I headed down the road to meet Berglund.

  “Again, I’m sorry to just show up like this,” he said. “But I didn’t know how else to reach you.”

  “How did you find us?”

  “Old Harbor is a small community. Word travels fast.”

  “My name’s Captain Wolfe,” I said, stretching my right arm forward.

  I could tell by his grip that he was used to dominating a shake, but he barely made an impression around my massive hand and Kevlar glove.

  He stood back, his eyes searching my bulky helmet. His black hair was dyed, something I picked up by the chemical scent, but it was also at odds with the salty stubble breaking out over the lower half of his face. The red splotches on his cheek and nose, as well as the fermented smell coming off his skin, told me he was a drinker. Throw in his job title, CEO of an aggressive hedge fund, and I marked him as an extreme Type A personality. That could be a problem.

  “Thanks for coming,” he said. “Every minute we’re not doing something is another minute she’s out there, you know?”

  I followed his gaze into the trees and nodded, thinking about what I’d do if I were in this guy’s shoes and it was Daniela who was missing. I needed to remember that while dealing with him.

  “Do you really think werewolves have her?” he asked.

  “That’s where the data’s pointing, but it’s too early to know for sure.”

  “Your guys seemed pretty fucking sure.”

  I was wondering how long it would take for his aggression to emerge, and there it was. But I was more irritated at the Centurion reps for giving this guy the hard sell, no doubt saying whatever it had taken to get Berglund to pen his signature and hand over a hefty retainer.

  “Base is clear,” Sarah radioed into my earpiece.

  “Let’s head on up,” I said to Berglund. “We’re going to meet with Sarah, our chief investigator.”

  Berglund took a couple steps alongside me before seeming to remember something. “Oh, shit, hold on a sec.” Hitching up his cammo pants, he jogged back to his vehicle. He pulled out a backpack and rifle case. By the time he returned, he was sweating and out of breath.

  “What’s that for?” I asked, nodding at the case.

  “What do you mean?” he panted. “It’s a rifle.”

  “But why do you need it for our meeting?”

  “Didn’t your outfit tell you?”

  “Tell me what?” I asked, a knot hardening in my gut.

  “I’m going to be hunting these things with you guys.”

  7

  I had the phone pressed to my ear so hard that I could hear the electronics buzzing inside the device between ring tones.

  Pick up, you piece of…

  “I bet I can guess what this is about,” Director Beam said when he answered.

  My voice was low, barely more than a growl. “There’s no way he’s coming with us.”

  “He insisted, Captain. It was part of the agreement.”

  “That wasn’t in the files you sent us.”

  “It was in the contract, actually.”

  The son of a bitch had known we weren’t going to sit down and read twenty-four pages of legalese. “I don’t care,” I said. “He’s not coming.”

  “Then the contract is void, and I’ll have no choice but to recall you. Is that what you want?”

  My boots landed with wall-rattling thuds as I paced a back room in the lodge. Beyond the closed door I could hear Rusty and Yoofi porting equipment, while beyond them, Sarah was beginning the meeting with Berglund.

  “Look, it’s not ideal,” Beam allowed before I could say anything. “But I trust you to figure it out.”

  “We’re an elite team,” I snarled. “Not a fantasy camp for out-of-shape cosplayers. The guy couldn’t run twenty meters with a ten pound rifle without losing his breath.”

  Beam chuckled. “Oh, you don’t know that.”

  “It just happened,” I shot back. “His girlfriend’s missing. I get it. He wants to be involved. But trying to integrate him into our unit without proper training is a formula for a shit show.”

  “Those were his terms,” Beam said with finality.

  “Then Centurion should have rescinded the offer.”

  “With a victim possibly alive and a population under threat? That doesn’t sound like the Captain Wolfe I know.”

  “You don’t know me,” I growled.

  “Listen, the contract doesn’t say he has to lead the main thrust or anything. If I remember, the wording was that he would be present and involved in the effort to find and retrieve Ms. Welch. There’s wiggle room. Look it over with Sarah. Like I said, I trust you to figure it out.”

  “Doesn’t sound like we have a choice,” I said, and ended the call.

  I paced the room several more times, trying to cycle down the breaths blasting from my muzzle. The last time a person was forced onto a unit under my command, he ordered an air strike that wiped out the Kabadi’s warrior class. Even if Berglund’s motives were sincere, there was no way I could include an amateur without putting the rest of the unit in danger.

  So my job is to sideline Berglund without losing the contract.

  Despite my anger, I was still committed to finding his girlfriend and ending the threat. I wiped my muzzle and secured my helmet back over my head. As I left the room, I almost ran into Rusty,
who was wheeling in one of the equipment cases. I placed a boot against it to stop him.

  “Remember what we talked about at the armory?” I asked.

  His eyes cut to one side, then the other. “You mean stepping around a certain organization?”

  “It’s not a priority, but any free time you get, I want you working on it.” When I heard Yoofi coming in from the garage, I lowered my voice further. I hated keeping members of the team in the dark, but not knowing how Sarah would react, and wanting the others to stay mission focused, it was the choice I was making. “For now, this is between us.”

  “You got it, boss,” Rusty whispered.

  I removed my boot from the case and strode into the lodge’s living room. Off to the right of where a collection of leather couches and chairs boxed in a massive stone hearth, Sarah was meeting with Berglund at a large table beside the kitchen—or trying to. In the time it took me to reach them, Berglund had interrupted Sarah mid-sentence twice to insert his own loud opinion.

  As I’d guessed, the man wasn’t a listener.

  “How’s it going?” I asked, taking a seat at the head of the table.

  “We’re still on the first step of the mission plan,” Sarah responded tightly.

  “I was just telling her that all this investigation stuff is a waste of time. Your outfit said you guys could track anything. Hell, that’s why I hired you. Forget this investigation bullshit, we need to start here.” With a thick finger, he hammered a point on the map Sarah had spread across the table. “The Platt River. That’s where we lost the trail a day ago. Your investigator here is talking like she wants to make it two or three more days.”

  “I never said—” Sarah started before Berglund cut her off again, this time turning to me.

  “You’re some sort of military badass, right? I mean, surely you understand the concept of time sensitivity?”

  I didn’t care for the challenge in his voice or for his pointing finger.