Strength of the Pack (10 page)

Their lips parted with a moist sound. Carefully, Lucas released Noah, making sure he could keep himself upright. Standing slowly, Lucas glanced around the room. His eyes landed on a large tub of baby wipes. He retrieved it quickly and came to kneel between Noah’s legs.

“I’m going to clean you up and help you get into your rack so you can sleep,” Lucas said. He deliberately made it an order.

Noah was docile and unresisting. Lucas used the wipes to clean the drying come from Noah’s hand and cock. By the time he was finished, Noah was already half-asleep.

Lucas unlaced Noah’s LPCs and slid them from his feet. He helped Noah to shrug out of his blouse then tugged down the bedclothes. Lucas encouraged Noah to lie down and pulled his trousers over his hips and down his thighs.

“Thank you,” Noah sighed as Lucas tucked the covers around him.

“You’re welcome,” Lucas whispered in reply, an unfamiliar affection and possessiveness welling up inside of him.

He carefully folded Noah’s uniform and left it for him on a chair. With one final glance over his shoulder to reassure himself that Noah would sleep peacefully for several hours, Lucas left the hooch and locked the door behind him.

When he reached his own billet, Lucas gathered up what he’d need for a shower. Their showers were timed; the need to conserve water was more than obvious. As hard as Lucas was, he wouldn’t need more than a minute or two of privacy.

If he jerked himself off to the memories of what he and Noah had just done, it could very well be over in a matter of seconds.

Farah Province, Afghanistan

Lucas stood in the battalion’s command tent. Lieutenant Colonel Santos, the battalion commander, and Major Allen were briefing the Echo and Fox company commanders and their platoon leaders. Lucas clenched his jaw and struggled to keep his expression smooth. Their mission was pointless. It would serve no purpose other than to drive a wedge between themselves and the local villagers.

To compound the sheer idiocy of the current plan, they were expected to move from village to village out in the open, in Humvees. They were going to be nothing more than moving targets in a carnival shooting gallery.

When they were dismissed, Lucas was the first to exit the tent. He strode angrily in the direction of the motor pool. His men were going over their assigned victors, ensuring everything was in good working order.

“Lucas.”

Turning in surprise, he saw Captain Tim Madison walking toward him. Madison was the Echo company commander.

“Yes, sir?” Lucas had no idea what Madison could want from him.

“Let’s keep walking,” he said cryptically.

“Is there something I can help you with, Captain?” Lucas fell into step with Madison.

“I think you and I are going to need each other’s help as this mission progresses,” the captain replied.

Lucas was puzzled. “I’m not sure how much help I can be to you, sir.”

“Watch my back when the time comes,” said Madison. “I’ll feel better knowing it’s you and not one of the idiots who surround us.”

Lucas barked a surprised laugh at Madison’s blunt response. “I’m flattered, sir.”

“Just telling the truth.” The captain smiled slightly. “You’ve surprised command with how well you’re managing Sergeant Hammond.”

“Beg your pardon, sir?” Lucas’ heart nearly stopped.

Madison didn’t seem to notice Lucas’ distress. “It’s common knowledge that he usually humors officers, so no one expected that he’d submit to you.”

“They know about that?” Lucas felt physically ill.

The captain nodded. “It’s clear to see he has respect for you, Lucas. We can count on one hand the number of officers he’s respected in his career.”

Lucas relaxed slightly in relief. They were discussing Sergeant Hammond submitting to Lieutenant Young’s authority. Noah submitting to Lucas was still just between the two of them.

“I don’t treat him differently because he’s a werewolf,” Lucas explained. “It seems treating him just like every other Marine in the platoon works.”

“I’m sure there’s a little more to it, but whatever you’re doing, it’s working.” Madison glanced around them as they walked. “I know Stanley hasn’t done anything about getting you any training on how to handle a shifter of Hammond’s power.”

Lucas wasn’t sure how to reply to what sounded like an open criticism of his company commander.

Madison was undaunted by his silence. “Because of the chain of command, I can’t blatantly offer you any training or assistance.”

“Of course, sir, I understand.” Lucas didn’t though.

“Lieutenant Campbell and I have training and experience with commanding werewolves,” Madison’s tone was conversational. “If the subject came up informally, just a bunch of officers shooting the shit, no one would be the wiser.”

“Just a group of officers swapping stories about their days,” replied Lucas.

“Exactly.” Madison smiled conspiratorially.

“Thank you, sir.” Lucas was genuinely grateful.

“Nothing to thank me for. You watch my back; I’ll watch yours.” With a nod, Captain Madison ambled off in a different direction.

Lucas’ mind raced over the implications of the conversation. It seemed he had an unexpected ally. As reassuring as it was to know he had a resource for answers to his werewolf-related questions, he knew he still couldn’t ask the most important one.

What the fuck was this thing between Noah and him?

§ § §

Whatever it was between them, five days later it was keeping them all alive. They were split from the rest of the company and had been ordered to make movement to contact at villages they encountered. They traveled along a rocky, pitted road, taking over villages and searching for signs of Taliban forces or hostile insurgents.

Lucas stared out the window of his Humvee, ignoring the sense of claustrophobia. A center console filled with electronics separated him from Gunny McAlister. He kept the screen of his BLUFOR Tracker pushed toward the windscreen so they didn’t have to talk around it, but it did little to help.

“LT,” Noah’s voice sounded on the comm. Again, he was breaking radio protocol, but it no longer mattered.

Immediately, Lucas keyed his mic and gave his order. “All Fox victors, immediate halt.”

The platoon had grown used to Noah’s cryptic transmissions followed my Lucas’ firm orders. It had kept them out of the shit more than once. Each Humvee came to an abrupt halt as they all waited to see what would happen next.

“Can you tell what it is he’s seeing?” Vince asked from the driver’s seat.

“Not yet,” replied Lucas. “Not that it matters; he’s been right every time he’s called a halt like this.”

“Any idea how in the hell Hammond knows when we’re about to roll over a damn IED?” Vince’s question reflected Lucas’ own bafflement.

“When I asked, he said he can smell them,” Lucas answered.

“Did he say what an IED smells like?” Vince sounded dubious.

Glancing over his shoulder, Lucas replied, “It smells like explosive material, metal, disturbed dirt and however many humans have handled the device.”

“No shit?” Gunny’s eyebrows rose beyond the brim of his Kevlar.

“That’s what he said.” Lucas shrugged, jostling his M16.

Lucas saw Noah climb slowly out of his Humvee, so he stepped from his own. He didn’t care that being out in the open made him more vulnerable; it was easier to breathe outside of the cramped vehicle.

One by one, Grant, Hubbard and Chandler exited their victors and moved down the line toward Noah. Lucas adjusted his battle sling so his M16 hung more comfortably on his shoulder. Whatever it was Noah was sensing, it could lead to an exchange of gunfire, and Lucas needed to be ready.

“Sergeant?” Corporal Hubbard asked quietly.

With the hand not gripping his M16, Noah pointed two fingers toward the left side of his Humvee. Hubbard and Grant moved around to the far side of the vehicle. Another flick of Noah’s fingers gestured Chandler forward. The four of them fanned out along the road, lifted their weapons and slowly walked forward.

Fifty meters out, Noah gestured for them to halt. He took another few steps forward and dropped into a crouch. Lucas watched him brush away dirt and debris from the road. Lucas’ heart was in his throat. He’d seen the pack do this several times now, each time with the same result.

Moments later, Noah and the rest of the shifters backed away and returned to the line of Humvees.

“Sergeant Hammond?” Lucas already knew the answer; he only needed confirmation.

“IED, sir,” Noah replied sharply, eyes silver. “Several devices buried in the road.”

“Solid copy,” Lucas acknowledged and keyed his mic. “All Fox victors, be advised, IED fifty meters ahead.”

In a sudden flurry of activity, Marines poured out of the Humvees, shouldering their M16s. Others climbed into the turrets and manned the large guns. Within seconds, they’d established a perimeter and ranged their weapons.

“Sitrep?” Lucas demanded of Noah, mind racing.

“Multiple buried devices, trip-wire triggered,” Noah reported, quick and concise. “I sense no radio signals in the area, and I smell no one else in the vicinity.”

“So, they were set and left?” Lucas confirmed.

“That is my assessment, sir.” Noah stood close to Lucas, head lowered as he spoke. “They smell like live devices, and I don’t sense an ambush.”

Lucas ignored his pleasure at Noah’s closeness and focused instead on the task at hand. “Recommendation?”

Noah shrugged. “If we detonate them ourselves, it’ll leave a crater large enough to make the road, such as it is, impassible.”

“Double-edged sword,” Lucas mused. “That would make it more difficult for our enemies to move around the area, but it will impede our own movements, as well.” The road, like most in Afghanistan, was only dirt. It made it so easy for their enemy to plant IEDs and so difficult to get around the country effectively.

“Waiting for EOD to respond will burn most of our daylight and leave us vulnerable, sitting out here in the open,” Noah finished for him.

“Lieutenant Young?” Sergeant Viejo called from where he and Corporal Branch were bent over a map they had spread out on the hood of the second Humvee.

Lucas and Noah approached to see what they were reading on the map.

“What do you have, gents?” Lucas asked.

“If we have an alternate route through this area, does detonation become a viable option?” asked Viejo.

Lucas glanced up at Noah to find cool blue eyes looking down at him. They were already in agreement to detonate if an alternate route could be identified.

“It does,” replied Lucas. “Show us what you found.”

“We don’t think this road ends here,” Branch indicated a narrow road that ran parallel to the one on which they traveled. They had all believed that road ended where a natural wall formation began. “It’s possible it continues on top of this formation until it reaches here.” He indicated a small village several dozen klicks away.

Excitement zinged its way up Lucas’ spine. “Sergeant?” he asked without even looking up.

“Grant, Hubbard,” Noah called sharply.

The two werewolves jogged over to view the map. Noah traced the potential alternate route with a finger. “Verify it’s passable.”

“Yes, Sergeant,” they said in unison.

Handing off their weapons to other Marines, both weres climbed into the back of a Humvee. Several moments later, two wolves leaped out and took off running to the east in the direction of the second road.

“Fuck, they did that fast,” Chandler sighed wistfully.

Noah glanced at Corporal Chandler. “Age and experience,” he said quietly. “It’ll gradually get easier for you, too. When things settle down, there are a couple of tricks I might be able to show you.”

“That’d be great, Sergeant.” Chandler looked up at Noah with a worshipful expression. “It’s still so hard, unless it’s the full moon.”

Lucas wondered how often he’d worn that same expression. He glanced away, realizing it might even be there now. He admired the way Noah effortlessly encouraged and mentored other Marines. It seemed he was able to handle his platoon commander with equal ease.

“Gunny, we should plan the detonation in the event this route pans out,” Lucas called to Vince where he held his place in the perimeter.

McAlister approached him, M16 lowered. “I’ll take some guys and get a good look.”

“Take Corporal Chandler,” Lucas ordered. “He’s already been out there with Hammond, and he’s got those phenomenal were-senses.” He also thought the young werewolf could use the confidence boost of using his skills to assist his fellow Marines.

Lucas returned to his Humvee and selected Stanley’s frequency on the radio. It took four attempts before the captain answered the hail. Lucas provided their grid location and sitrep. If the shit hit the fan, at least someone would know where to come looking for their bodies.