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Authors: Heath Stallcup

BOOK: Homecoming
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She propped herself on an elbow and stared at him. “What do you mean? You Plan to hire an outside contractor?” Her evil smile and devilish demeanor toyed with the idea of running to Thorn and tattling.

“Hardly.” He rolled over and twisted her nipple in his fingers painfully. “My brother still has a death mark on his head from the Vampire Council. They may be rebuilding after that fiasco in the desert, but they’re still out there. And they don’t forget things like that.”

 

 

2

 

 

Jericho Jones stuck his head inside Tufo’s office, “Major, Team One, is back.”

Mark looked up from the training records and nodded. “Have them debriefed, and I need the report ASAP.”

“Right away, sir.” Jones disappeared just as a shadow crossed the doorway and the oversized team leader for Team One knocked on the door.

Tufo looked up and felt a sudden urge to scream. If Apollo came to him first, something went wrong on the op. “Report.”

Apollo shook his head, “Nothing to report, sir,” he stepped into Mark’s office and stood at parade rest, “other than a successful mission.”

Mark studied him a moment then waved him on. “Then why aren’t you debriefing with your operations officer and getting your report ready for me?”

“I, uh…wanted to speak privately with you, sir. About the new guys.”

Mark closed the training reports and leaned back in his chair. “Problems?”

“Negative, sir. I mean nothing I can put my finger on.” Apollo glanced off to the side and seemed to be searching for the right words.

“Spit it out, Apollo. We don’t have all day.”

“Permission to speak freely, sir?”

Mark nodded. “Of course.”

“I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something about Little John. Either the guy is just a stone cold killer or…”

“Or?”

“Or the guy is trying to pull a fast one on me. I mean, it seems like nothing fazes the guy. No matter what I throw at him, he’s a stone wall.”

“And this is a bad thing because…”

“Because people just ain’t wired like that, boss.” Apollo shrugged. “See, I knew I couldn’t explain it. Call it a gut feeling.”

Mark pushed away from his desk. “Look, Apollo, I understand if you’re just a bit worried about placing the new guys on the teams. But it’s not like you’re personally responsible. You make the recommendations, and then it’s up to me to make the decision.”

“No, sir, it’s not that.”

“Then I guess I’m not seeing the problem.” Mark sat up from his chair and took to his feet. “The way I see it, the man was recruited, he gave informed consent to be augmented, he’s gone through the training, and now you have reservations because he’s a little too…what? Detached?”

Apollo thought a moment then nodded. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

Mark stepped around the desk and approached the larger man. “Do you remember how long it took you to come around after Maria’s death?” As soon as he asked the question, he saw the man visibly stiffen. Mark feared that Maria’s death was still a raw nerve with Apollo, but it was his only avenue.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Apollo’s voice was defensive and edged on menacing.

“I’m just asking you, do you remember how long it took you before you allowed yourself to ‘feel’ anything again?”

Apollo’s shoulders slumped as he thought back to the toughest four months of his life. “I remember.”

“Some people put up these…I dunno…walls, I guess. They’re a defense to help protect what’s left of their sanity.” He patted the large man’s shoulder. “Have you considered that perhaps Sully has just seen too much or been through too much and his behavior is a defensive move?”

“So I should think outside the box?”

“Think wherever the hell you want, big guy, you’re the team leader. I’m just throwing out ideas.”

Apollo turned to leave. “Guess I got a debriefing to get to.”

“Look forward to reading the report.” Mark patted his back as he stepped out of the office. He watched the large man round the corner before he shut the door to his office again. “Psycho-babble bullshit might have actually come in handy once.”

 

*****

 

Robert Mueller ran along the wet beach, all cares and worries gone from his mind as he pushed himself to run faster through the soft white sand. Although he could feel the sandy mud splashing up against the back of his thighs, he ignored the minor distraction and forced himself to run faster, to push harder, his lungs burning, as he tore through the next breaking wave.

From the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of Barbara walking slowly toward the water’s edge, an impish grin across her elfish features. He slowed his pace to a trot and allowed himself to take her in fully as she swayed her hips seductively. “Seeing you all wet and frothy, makes me hot, ya know,” she purred.

Robert smiled and slowed his breathing to a mild pant. “Just seeing you makes me hot.” He wiggled his brows at her.

“Pfft, the wind blows and you get hot.” She pushed him away with a hand to the chest. “You’re such a guy.”

Robert grabbed her by the bottom and lifted her to him. “Not just
any
wind, sweetheart.” He kissed the tip of her nose as she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his massive shoulders. “As I recall, only hurricane Barbara affects me like this.” He lowered her a bit and rubbed a certain part of his body against hers.

“Easy there, big fella,” she cooed. “Jack needs you.”

Robert stiffened slightly then groaned. “Dammit, I was hoping to drive you into the sand.”

“Again?” she laughed. “That’s almost all that we’ve been doing since we got here.”

Robert gave her a silly grin. “Call it a second honeymoon.”

“You have to remarry me first, you goofball!” She slapped at him until he put her down. “Go! Go to work and earn your keep around here.”

He winked and gave her a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.” He turned to leave, then quickly pulled the towel from her waist before running off toward the compound.

“You’re a dick!”

“Love you, too!” He laughed as he dragged the towel across his back and down his thighs, swiping at the drying sandy mud.

Robert worked his way to the compound and entered the fortified gate. Nodding to the sentry, he entered the foyer and walked the long echoing hallway to the library. He stuck his head inside and found it empty. “Security room it is.” Bob knew if Jack was working, he was most likely in the library or the security room. He actually had a pseudo-office there, but rarely used it. Since taking on Viktor’s old position as Rufus’ Second, he had nearly converted the library into a staging area and office, but for real planning and strategizing, the security room was the place to be.

Pushing open the steel blast door, Bob was surprised to find nearly all of the tactical team hard at work. Once Jack had assumed his position, the first thing he did was took the first and second degree Lycans and augmented their training in order to make the men more efficient warriors. As wolves, they were the deadliest of the deadly, but as men, they lacked certain skills that Jack felt were needed. Once he was satisfied with their abilities, he allowed them to call themselves ‘Hunters’. He would put his Hunters against any Monster Squad in the world and bet on the Hunters. Thankfully, their goals were the same, but the Hunters were a private squad and their coverage area much more localized. Then again, they weren’t bound by national agreements or boundaries.

“What’s up, boss?” Bob tossed the towel aside as he stepped into the office.

“We need a strike plan for Geneva.” Jack pushed the file folder across to Mueller and crossed his arms as he allowed the man to assess the structure highlighted in the file.

Bob scanned the documents and the architectural drawings of the building. “The roof. Come in through the skylights.” He handed the file back to Jack who was trying unsuccessfully to hide a smirk.

“My assessment as well.” He placed the folder back on his desk and glanced at the other men working diligently in the room. He lowered his voice as he addressed Bob, “The real question is, can these guys handle a HALO jump?”

Most of the men paused and one actually turned to address their commander. “Sir, with all due respect,” his heavily accented voice spoke, “we can handle anything you ask of us.”

Bob slowly turned to the man. “HALO jumps aren’t like what you’re used to. You have to use oxygen, and if you’re off at all with the wind patterns, or if you over-correct the tiniest bit, you end up kilometers off course.”

“Not to mention you nearly freeze your ass off,” Jack added.

“I think we can handle it.” Bob and Jack both studied the man as he confidently made his statement.

Jack nodded slightly, “We’ll see if that’s true.” He turned back to the file and pulled out the architectural drawings. “Bob, our best guess is that they’re using this large common room as their council chamber. Any meetings will most likely take place there.”

“Hence the skylight option. We’ll have to be careful on our approach not to block out the moon or stars. They’d be sure to notice.”

“Agreed. I think if you approach from the south here, you’ll have these spires to block their view.” Jack pointed out the tower that the commandos could use as a staging area. “Wind will be your biggest concern.”

“Swiss Chicago.” Bob rubbed at his chin as he studied the terrain. Between the winter winds and the buildings altering the natural currents, putting a man on the roof from a HALO jump would be nearly impossible even if he were experienced. Bob glanced around the room again then caught Jack’s eye. “Maybe I ought to be the one to take the roof. We can find another way for the rest of the team.”

Jack shook his head. “There’s only one other way in and that’s through the front doors.”

“There’s a good chance we’ll lose men on this one.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Jack closed the file and stuffed it back into the drawer of his desk. “We have some time to figure this one out. If I know Rufus, he’s still trying to figure out a way to get his foot in the door without losing his head.”

Bob scratched at the back of his head as he thought. “How solid is our intel?” His eyes searched Jack’s before he clarified. “On the whole death sentence thing, I mean.”

Jack groaned inwardly. He hadn’t told all the members of the teams how he came across the information, but it was time Bob knew. “During the showdown in Nevada, I ran into an old friend of mine. I use that term loosely now because the guy was a real snake, but in the end, his intel was good. He was from the Brit team, and he had been contracted by the council to assassinate Rufus.”

Bob was taken aback by Jack’s statement. “A team member went mercenary?”

“They threatened his family and…it got convoluted really quickly. In the end, Sherry came clean with a little persuading, and we scooped his family up, relocating them someplace where the council would never think to look. They’re basically in the witness protection program.”

“What happened to your buddy?” Bob wasn’t really sure he wanted to know.

“He walks with a limp now. But that was his doing. He should have been more forthcoming when I asked him to come clean.” Jack showed no emotion when he spoke of the man. What happened between them didn’t sit well with him and left their relationship unrepairable. “We used to be pretty tight, but after he allowed himself to be compromised I just couldn’t…”

Bob nodded. “You lost respect for him.”

“That’s one way of putting it.” Jack squared his shoulders and turned to leave the office. “Either way, the intel is solid. We know that the council has their sights set on Rufus. We just have to figure out a way to either change their minds or take them out.”

 

*****

 

Little John finished his portion of the debriefing rather quickly. There simply wasn’t much to tell from his part of the operation. Once he was dismissed, he hit the showers and changed into a clean uniform then headed to the lounge where the main portion of the teams were hanging out and unwinding as the night drifted on.

The men were broken into groups across the room. Some played table tennis; others were playing cards while some sat around the room swapping stories. His eyes scanned the group and settled on the other three new guys who had arrived and went through the same training that he had endured. He listened as they swapped battle stories with the seasoned operators of the squads. Part of him wanted to join the others and pretend to be interested, but if he were to face the truth, he simply wasn’t interested. He thought maybe a good book and a little down time in his bunk would do him more good than the camaraderie shared by the others. He had just turned to leave when one of the others called his name. He could almost feel his gut tighten as he paused and painted a false smile across his face. He turned to greet the others as Vince Carbone, one of the new members stood and waved him over.

“Hey, Bone.” John sauntered toward the group and took a seat.

“We were just swapping stories, buddy. So tell us what happened tonight.” Carbone gave him a light elbow to prod him along.

John shook his head. “Not much to tell really. They had me sitting overwatch again. I bagged a couple of runners while the others went in and made a mess of things.”

Chad McKenzie, another of the new members sat up and leaned forward on the couch, his voice lowered. “I hear from the veterans here that things have really quieted down since we got here. They don’t talk much about all the crap that went down before, but I’ve been hearing rumors from some of the support staff.”

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