Twin Wolf Trouble (Shifter Squad Six 2) (4 page)

“Yup,” he acknowledged softly.

His mind was racing. Cut off from the rest of the world, plunging down the railroad tracks like something straight out of hell and with a damaged engine, the recipe for disaster was so easy that even Thatch could cook it up.

The Sunset Limited line was one of the least traveled lines in the whole country, but even that one went through a couple of high-density cities. If the train came off the tracks in one of those, they’d be thoroughly fucked. Or, well, odds were that everyone onboard this miserable steel coffin was already fucked, but jumping the track in a city would just make it that much worse.

When it seemed like shit couldn’t get any worse, a distant banging noise sounded again, making the train shudder and creak dangerously as it whirred down its demonic path. Tex and Thatch locked gazes and the seriousness of the situation was lost on neither of them.

“I’ll try to work out the comms and see if there’s any way to stop this thing. You go see what else is going down on this Thomas the fucking tank engine, okay?” Thatch said, already dropping on his knees and tearing the panel out that hid the wires to the radio.

They read each other’s minds well enough for Thatch to know that if he was thinking it, Tex was already on the same wavelength, doing it.

“Lock and load,” Tex said, grinning like Christmas came early.

Thatch smirked at his little brother - by a few minutes as he liked to remind Thatch - blazed out of the engine train. Nothing like a bit of world saving to round out a wedding.
 

CHAPTER FOUR

Madeline

“Stay calm, Maddy. It’s okay. Nothing’s wrong. Just a couple of commandos running around on this train,” she told herself out loud, trying to concentrate on drawing a breath every now and then instead of sinking into full-fledged panic.

Panicking sounded like
such
an easier option, though.

She’d uncurled her legs from the seat and put the book away. Keeping an eye on the entrance to her room, she ran through every manner of possible outcomes in her head. The smoke wasn’t as thick back there, but peeking forward she could see that it was almost definitely coming from the engine. And that was bad.

The fact that no one had said a word on the intercom also didn’t put her mind at ease. To add insult to injury, she was sure that the train was picking up speed ever since she heard the first loud bangs that got Tex and Thatch rolling out like they’d just gotten the call for Afghanistan.

Chewing her lower lip, Madeline got up and closer to the window that looked into the hallway. It was barren of life. She couldn’t see a single person. Granted, she was pretty close to the back of the train, where the sleeping cars were located, but even on the sleepy Sunset Limited she was used to seeing a little bit more movement.

I shouldn’t go anywhere. I should stay here. I should not get in the middle of whatever the fuck is going on, right?

It sounded perfectly reasonable. She
knew
it was reasonable. But still, she wanted to go and be at least somewhat useful instead of huddling away in the back, hoping that the storm would pass her by. And even more than that, she would appreciate knowing if the world was crashing down around her and at least give herself a chance to make peace with it.

You’re getting real melodramatic, Madeline,
she chided herself, wrapping her hands around herself.

Telling herself that everything would be fine and the two men she’d been having such a loaded conversation with weren’t terrorists hell-bent on bringing the train off the tracks was all well and good, until another explosion rocked the train. This time, it felt like it was right behind her.

“Shit,” Madeline gasped, grabbing her jacket and her bag.

She pulled on the jacket, secured her leather backpack over her shoulders, and jumped to the door. With things going south as fast as they were, she had no intention of just sitting around and waiting for the inevitable to conk her over the head.

Carefully, she slid the door open and looked both ways, almost expecting to see some guys in all-black tackle her for doing that. But there was no one in the hallway and she was all alone. Madeline wasn’t sure whether that was good news or the absolute worst possible situation she could be in.

Stepping out, she quietly slipped the door closed behind her. Why she was taking so much care to remain silent she wasn’t sure, but somehow it felt like the right thing to do. She practically ran to the other end of the passenger car, empty as it was, and when she got to the door her heart sank. The damn thing wouldn’t open.

Slamming her fist against it a few times, she choked down tears of panic and looked for a way to pry it open, but it felt like it was locked tight. Maybe someone had passed by her room and hadn’t noticed her in there because of the darkness the smoke kept casting over the windows, dimming out the light? And maybe she hadn’t seen them?

Madeline was stuck, and that made bile rise in her throat.

“Okay, focus. What would the commandos do?” she asked herself in a mutter, her gray eyes glancing around at the empty hallway and the rooms to either side of it.

They definitely wouldn’t lose their cool. Taking a deep breath, Madeline forced some sense into herself. Another big gulp and she could sort of feel her arms and legs again, instead of feeling like just a head floating around and talking to herself.

The commandos would also have big guns and training and a general sense of direction better than yours,
a snide little voice commented in the back of her head, making Madeline groan inwardly.

It was all true, sure, but that didn’t mean she wanted to hear it. She was thoroughly fucked. But if she was in fact stuck in the middle of some mysterious train drama then she might as well… do something? Maybe she wasn’t the only one stuck in the back. Maybe there were people in the sleeping cars who couldn’t get out either? Okay, that was something she could do. Safety in numbers and all that.

Squaring her shoulders, Madeline marched forward through the car, this time looking to either side more carefully to be sure no one else was huddled in the adjoining sitting rooms. She couldn’t find anyone, and when she made it to the other door leading to the first sleeping car, she found that it was only jammed. Putting her shoulder against it and giving it a hard push made it slip open, though she figured it wouldn’t have been quite so easy if she’d been trying to do it from the other side.

For a moment, she wondered if the same thing had happened to the other door she’d tried, but she thought it had held together much tighter. Mentally shrugging, she stalked forward, now checking the sleeping quarters by knocking on every door. No one came out. The carpet underneath her feet made her steps shuffle and muffled the knocks a bit, the length of the car not as hollow and soulless as that of the sitting car.

She made it to the end again and then continued from there, finding the door wide open. Moving forward methodically, she became more and more nervous for better or for worse when no one appeared.

There has to be someone else back here too,
she thought, chewing on her lower lip with her hand curled tightly around the strap of her bag.
It can’t be just me.

Madeline was seconds from turning around, deciding to see if she had any luck with that damn jammed door again, when a hint of conversation somewhere farther on caught her ear. Frowning, she snuck forward, suddenly even more mindful of her steps, trying her best to be unseen and unheard. Every inch she crept forward, the voices became clearer. Decidedly masculine, constantly undercut by a loud, whirring noise she couldn’t quite place. Her hand was on the handle that would open the door of the last sleeping compartment and lead into the areas usually restricted to passengers, but she hesitated for a moment, listening.

“Come on, we need to move faster!” someone hissed, his voice tight and aggravated.

“We’re going as fucking fast as we can,” another man replied, obviously sour and annoyed.

Madeline’s hand shook as she kept it on the handle, trying to make sense of what was going on. Was someone behind there, stuck like she was? Or was she stumbling into something she shouldn’t? Before she could make up her mind on whether or not to open the door, it swung open in front of her and she came face to face with a tall, stern figure clad in black. He looked at her and a wry grin tugged at his lips, like a big cat finding a mouse to play around with.

“Looks like we have visitors,” the man said in a soft snarl.

Fight or flight kicked in full force and Madeline jumped back, surprising her new and unexpected acquaintance with her speed. Adrenaline made a body do weird things. Behind him, Madeline could see the rotor of a helicopter spinning with dizzying speed, kicking up dirt as it tried to stay next to the train. Two other men, dressed in equally nondescript garb, were tossing packages from the train to the chopper, another person catching them and stacking them behind him. The packages were oblong, no bigger than a loaf of bread, and the men were hauling them out of a big wooden crate that had been busted open.

Sickeningly, she could see the unconscious, or maybe dead bodies of three US Marines slumped against the wall of the compartment. One of them had his throat cut, blood marring the front of his jacket and his head lolled back at an unnatural angle.

Dead
.

It was the only thing that pounded through her head as she whipped around in panic, ready to bolt down the corridor. But a hand closed around her arm like a vise and she was pulled back, flying against the wooden framing of a wall leading into a sleeping car. A burst of pain traveled through her, so disorienting and painful she thought she would throw up. Nothing crawled up her throat but a scream, and then her body was being dragged backward with a hand clamped over her mouth.

“Shut up, honey. You wanted to come and play, so come and fucking play,” the man hissed.

Looking up, she could see his brilliant blue eyes flash gold for a moment, his features contorted just a little as the corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement. The breath was kicked right out of her chest as he moved them back into the compartment with the Marines, the two other men barely looking at her. But she could see their faces clearly, even when her attacker slammed her against the wall so hard that she thought she would pass out.

All tall, wide-shouldered, athletic. With cold, dead eyes and no masks, like they either didn’t care about being seen or were certain they would take out anyone who saw them. The box that was busted open had a sign reading “US Navy, Ammunitions” and a string of letters and numbers on them that Madeline couldn’t decipher.

She crumpled to the ground, drawing her knees up to her chest reflexively as the man hovered above her, staring down at her with that unflinching smirk.

“Just fucking shoot her,” the man who’d been annoyed before said, tossing her a glance. “Don’t want to keep anyone around for this shit.”

“They’re all going to die anyway when the train goes off the rails,” the third man said, his voice bored, indifferent.

Madeline’s mind couldn’t wrap around the concept of sounding so damn blasé about killing a number of people, no matter what they were trying to hide. One look at the Marines told her that these guys didn’t give a shit. Not about human life, not about anything. And she’d walked in on them at the worst possible time.

“This is the last one,” the grouchy one said, tossing his package over to the guy on the helicopter and getting a thumbs up from his opposite on the chopper. “Come on, Devs, we got to go.”

The man standing over Madeline as she was struggling to breathe, Devs, smirked even wider before drawing his gun from his hip, cocking it easily. The thick black tendrils of smoke coming from the front of the train were seeping into the car now, with the side door of the cargo hauler opened and Madeline huddled against the opposite door. She blinked away tears, desperately searching for a way out, for a way to live. Her hands were balled into fists, rattling right along with the rough ride of the train speeding across the terrain.

“Aw, guess we don’t get to play. A pity,” Devs said, as his partners jumped across from the train to the helicopter, being pulled in like they were just another piece of cargo.

“Devs, fucking move!” the grouchy one hollered, his voice almost drowned out by the sound of the blades whipping through the air.

“Fucking hell, Duke. Unbunch your motherfucking panties. I’ll be right there,” he hissed over his shoulder, his gun trained on her head.