Birth of the Wolf (Wahaya) (8 page)

Chapter 1

Lieutenant Colonel Nicholas T. Harris, A.U.S. Retired, sat in a huge, leather upholstered chair behind an equally huge desk made of heart pine with his hands in his shirt cropped hair.

There was a stack of manila folders on the desk along with a dizzying array of secure communications equipment and a regular telephone.  Each of the folders had an eight by ten color photo stapled to the front, and Nick didn’t need the names written on the folders.  Each of the men in the photographs was well known to him.

There were two men sitting with him in the room.  Command Sergeant Major David McGraw, A.U.S., Retired was a hulking giant of a man of the sort generally chosen last as an opponent in a barroom brawl…if at all.  The second man had no title, and he had never been in the military. 

Jimmy Littlefeather was a full blood Cherokee. He was the only man Nick knew who run farther and faster than Nick could.  Jimmy could also track an animal (or a man) over miles of bare stone. Jimmy was slender and wiry, and possessed of deceptive strength.  His shoulder length raven black hair was kept in place by a beaded headband and his broad feet were covered with handmade moccasins. 

His green flannel shirt and blue jeans were almost a uniform for him.  “How many of those damned green shirts do you own?” Nick had asked him once.

“
Many,” was Jimmy’s taciturn response. 

Jimmy wasn’t much for two words when one would do.  It would be easy to underestimate the quiet Indian, and many did.  Before he had returned to live on the reservation in the way of his forefathers, Jimmy had ventured as far away as Massachusetts, where he had earned his Doctorate in Organic Chemistry at M.I.T.

“
We’ve got to whittle this down to two men Dave,” Nick said. Dave McGraw looked inquiringly at Nick, and Nick didn’t wait for him to ask the next question.  “Jimmy’s going to be the number three man on the team. 

Dave grinned and extended his hand to the tough looking Jimmy. “Welcome to the club brother,” he said.  Jimmy grunted and shook his hand.  He looked back at Nick.  “Are you sure we only need two more shooters?”

Nick nodded.  “Next time we’re out on the shooting range, remind me to let Jimmy show you how well he can handle a bow.”

Dave cast an eye at the quiet man.  “That good, huh?”

Nick snorted.  “Let me put it this way buddy…I’ve got ten bucks that says at the twenty five yard line with a three shot contest Jimmy can outshoot you and that raggedy forty five you carry around with you…with a bow and arrows.”

Dave looked at the Indian with new respect.  He knew very well the standards Nick had for marksmanship.  “That I’ve got to see.”  Jimmy didn’t even smile. He just nodded at the massive white man.

Chapter 2

There was a knock at the office door, and Jimmy’s Aunt Nettie spoke from the doorway.  “White woman,” was all she said before she turned and left. 

Nettie was working for Nick as housekeeper and cook. He had known the woman since he and Jimmy had met at the reservation school many years before. 

Jimmy had been one of the older boys at the school who chose not to welcome the strange boy who ran everywhere he went when he started school.  It had not been long before some quarrel arose between them, both men had forgotten what was at issue, but both were boiling mad. 

They had fought to a bloody draw in the dusty schoolyard, ringed by other young Cherokee.  Nicholas, bloodied but not bowed, had not given in to the older boy in spite of their difference in size. Aunt Nettie had come to the school and removed both boys, propelling them to Nick’s grandfather’s cabin by holding them both firmly by the ear. 

She had stopped them in front of the old man’s door and then knocked on it.  When Nick’s grandfather had come to the door, she had said two words to him.  “They fight.”  She had turned and left them with the old man, who happened to be a revered tribal elder. 

What came after was best left unremembered, but the boys had come out of the old man’s cabin lifelong friends.

Dave took the folders with him as he and Jimmy left through the door to the outside of the big house.  Nick went out to the central room of the giant log house, which was open to the vaulted ceiling three stories up. 

The upstairs rooms were accessed by a railed walkway on three sides and four different sets of stairs.  Standing by one of the low leather sofas was Cynthia Cohen. 

Nick wondered how Nettie had known she was a white woman; Cynthia was a Jewess and her features and coloring were very similar to those of a Cherokee woman.  Her straight, waist length raven black hair and her nose certainly didn’t give her away. She was dressed in faded Levi’s, worn desert boots and a black tee shirt under what appeared to be a British khaki battle jacket.

“
Welcome to Wolf’s Den,” Nick said, “What brings you here Cynthia?”

Cynthia took the battle jacket off and draped it across the back of the sofa. She turned and walked slowly to him.  Nick couldn’t take his eyes off the very attractive woman. 

“
I think you are smart enough to figure that out on your own,” she said as she draped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply and thoroughly.

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