Homecoming (23 page)

Jennifer turned in the other front seat and pulled the earphones away from her ears. “It’s about a hundred and fifty foot cliff on the other side of the runway.” She noticed Laura’s face go pale and she gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, Mick’s been flying off this runway for years, haven’t you, Mick?”

“Oh yeah, I’ve only crashed twice.” He pushed the throttles all the way to full open then released the brake and the craft lurched forward. “That’s the good thing about being a werecat. We heal quickly.”

Laura couldn’t tell if he was smiling when he said that or not. She couldn’t even see his eyes behind the aviator sunglasses he wore. She reached out with both hands and held on for dear life. She saw the short runway quickly be eaten below the advancing aircraft. “You do realize, that I’m not a were-anything, right?”

“No worries!” he shouted over the roar. “I wouldn’t risk this plane after all the hours I put into rebuilding her. She’s worth too much to risk…oh, shit.”

“Oh shit what?”

Mick shook his head. “I forgot how big this plane is. It needs a minimum safe speed to reach take off and I think maybe this dirt runway is too short to…” The ground quickly disappeared beneath them and Laura felt her heart skip a beat as the plane suddenly dropped from the edge.

*****

Apollo stepped from the Hummer and looked around the nearly empty parking lot of the Base Exchange. The last he had seen of Sheridan, he was standing outside, leaning on his cane and yelling at him. If only he had been thinking more clearly at the time.

Apollo slowly made his way back into the exchange and looked around. He saw the vendors along the front foyer, past the food court, many of whom were packing up their wares for the evening. He walked past the food court and made his way to the main doors of the exchange. His discarded basket of necessities was long gone an employee surely placed the items back on the shelves.

Apollo sighed and grabbed another basket and headed for the same aisles he had walked before. As he passed the jewelry counter a familiar voice called to him, “This would be a lot easier if I had your phone number.”

He instinctively froze, his grip tightening on the basket. He turned slowly and raised a brow to the British traitor who stood behind him. “I was hoping to find you here again.”

“That’s why I hung around.” Sheridan leaned on his cane, but waved him back out toward the doors. “Come on, let’s go have a sit down. My foot is killing me, and just standing here isn’t doing it any more good.”

Apollo took a deep breath and contemplated simply crushing the man’s skull. Instead, he set the basket back down in the stack he had pulled it from and slowly followed the ex-SAS officer out and back toward the food court. The man pulled out a chair and slowly lowered himself into it. “You never realize just how much you rely on something until it’s taken from you.”

“You wanted to talk, so talk.” Apollo crossed his arms over his massive chest and eyed the man suspiciously.

“You saw the video,” Sheridan lowered his voice despite the fact that they were the only ones in the court. “You know what they’ve done, right?”

“Clue me in.”

Sheridan sighed and sat back, eyeing the large man across from him. “Jack said they infected us. Did you know this?”

Apollo nodded. “Yeah, I know all about that.”

“Really? Did you know about it
before
they did it to you?”

Apollo’s grip on his own arms eased up a bit and the scowl on his face lightened up. “They did what they had to do.”

“Truly? And did they have to lie to you about it?” Sheridan shook his head. “Did they have to lie to you about her? Even after she died?”

“She didn’t die, she was killed. In action.”

“Semantics, my rather large friend.” Sheridan waved off his comment. “Regardless, did they have to keep the truth from you? Did they not trust you enough with the truth afterward so that you could heal properly?”

Apollo’s mind was spinning and he wasn’t sure he wanted to be hearing this right now; especially not from this guy. “Get to your point.”

“My point? My point is, they lied to you, they lied to me, they put me into a position where a third party could threaten to kill my family unless I did something that I didn’t agree with. They hid the truth from you, and even after the woman you loved died…err, excuse me, was ‘killed in action’, they didn’t have the decency to tell you the truth about her so that you could grieve properly.” He sat back and eyed Apollo. “Are you sure these are the kind of people you want to be working for?”

“What the fuck you saying to me, little man?”

“I’m saying,” Sheridan spoke slowly and deliberately, “are you sure you want to be working for people who you can’t trust? They obviously don’t trust you. Can you even be sure that the missions they send you on are indeed essential missions? Or are they political in nature now? You realize that they’re in cahoots with the vampires, right? They claim that they’re allies that they don’t hurt people, but…they’re
vampires
for fuck’s sake. And yet, our governments are friends with them?”

“You just trying to confuse me now.” Apollo pushed away from the table and started to get up.

“What about Jack?” Sheridan nearly shouted. “Where is he now? Is he even with your teams anymore?”

Apollo paused and sat back down. “No, he left.”

“He left?” Sheridan tried to appear shocked even though he already knew the truth. “Left? And went where, I wonder?”

“He’s living with his wife. They’re about to have a baby.”

“Ah, so Jack is allowed to have a family. A wife. A child. He’s allowed to go and just make a life for himself.
Working for the vampires.
Meanwhile, good people like you and me, we get stuck paying the price. My family goes into hiding and I lose a foot.” Sheridan stared at Apollo for a long moment. “Something tells me you lost a great deal more.”

Apollo could feel his chest tightening and his jaw clenched in anger. His fists continued to bunch together and his eyes narrowed. “I lost everything.”

“Yes, you did.” Sheridan leaned in and placed a tentative hand upon his shoulder. “And the real question is, with you having lost everything, and them not trusting you and lying to you constantly, are you sure you’re working for the right people?”

Apollo turned his narrowed eyes on Sheridan and through clenched teeth responded, “No.”

*****

Matt walked through the training area as the squads exited the area and left to hit the showers. The smell of burnt gunpowder and silver nitrate tickled at his sinuses as he walked through the CQB area. He could almost hear the echoes of the men as they went through the drills, clearing the blind rooms, dropping the popup targets with blinding speed and racing through the course. He paused and inspected the floor screens where the empty brass fell through for reloading. He needed to talk to Jay Wolf about making some thirty caliber rounds for the truck mounted guns.

He made a mental note to call him as soon as he got back to his office, but there was something about the smell of the burnt powder and the sweat of the men who had been running the drills that somehow calmed him—rather, it calmed his wolf. Was it the potential violence that calmed the beast or was it the familiarity of the smells that caused the beast within to recede and give him a moments peace?

Matt shook himself from his reverie and marched back to his office. He needed to get the order in for the machine gun rounds. The trucks were due to arrive within the week and Evan had been working overtime getting the mounts manufactured. He had watched from his office window a number of times as the vampire worked around the clock, cutting and bending pipe, a team of welders assisting him in the manufacturing of the setup.

He had been shocked when Evan called him down to check it out. A joystick had been installed in the center console of the cab. Should something happen to the operator in the back of the truck, the operator in the passenger seat could then operate the gun via remote using the joystick and the LCD screen that came with the truck. It had been repurposed to be used as a targeting screen. The cup holders had been removed and the joystick installed, allowing the passenger to operate the unit much like a video game.

Matt hated to admit it, but Evan had gone above and beyond on this one. The fabricators were duplicating the efforts now and getting everything painted and powder coated, wiring harnesses built and the servos synchronized so that once the new trucks arrived, the entire works could be installed and the units be operational in a matter of hours.

Matt picked up the phone and had dialed the number from memory. He listened as the phone rang and wasn’t surprised when a somewhat frazzled Lisa answered the phone. “Please tell me you don’t need any more silver ammunition.”

“Nice to hear your voice, too,” Matt deadpanned.

“I’m serious, Colonel. We have three presses running nearly night and day trying to keep your orders going. Your guys need to slow down.”

Matt took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Trust me, Lisa. It’s not that we’re wasting it. Things are picking up again.”

She sighed heavily into the phone. “Well, we’re doing the best we can, sir.”

“I know you are, and we truly appreciate it.” Matt hated to do what he was about to do next. “I need to add another caliber.”

“Of course you do.” He heard Lisa shuffle through some papers and click a pen. “Jay’s not here at the moment so…hit me.”

“Thirty caliber. For a machine gun.”

“Sweet Jesus. Belt fed?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Do you have any idea how fast the cycle rate is for a belt fed weapon, Colonel?”

“That’s why we need it.”

“You know your last little ‘shit hit the fan’ scenario nearly wiped us out. I don’t know what you did last year, but we’re still trying to catch up.”

“And we appreciate it.” Matt pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, Lisa, I’m really not trying to hammer you guys.”

She took a deep breath and blew it out. “I know you’re not, Colonel. It’s just…” she chuckled and he heard the phone shift, “we’ve had to add on twice since you contracted with us. And the people we bring on are working their fingers to the bone.”

“Tell ya what, when Jay gets in, have him give me a call. If he decides he’s willing to relocate away from Illinois, I might hook him up with some automated equipment to make his life easier.”

“Sorry, sir. Automated equipment won’t work for match grade ammunition.”

“We don’t need match grade for the thirty cals. This is spray and pray. In fact, we just need silver jacketed. If he can figure out a way to maybe melt the stuff and dip the bullets?”

“I have no idea. I’ll ask him to call you when he gets in.”

Matt thanked her and hung up, wishing again that he hadn’t given up his precious hobby of emptying scotch bottles by the case.

*****

  “So you’re telling me that Sully’s sister was nabbed when he was just a kid?” Donovan leaned across the table to keep the conversation low and prying ears from listening in.

Spanky nodded. “All these years later, the guy’s still torn up over it. I mean, the guy was like ten? He couldn’t have done anything to stop it, but you can tell when he’s telling you the story, he blames himself.”

“That’s heavy.”

“Definitely a lot of baggage.” Darren glanced around the room to ensure the conversation was, in fact, remaining between the two of them. “Anyway, I put the paperwork in to keep him with our squad.”

Donovan nodded. “Good. I like the guy. It doesn’t hurt to have a walking mountain on the team. They make for excellent human shields in a fire situation.”

“Cute.” Spalding sat back and eyed the other squad members as they grab assed and cut up in the lounge. “I’m going to locate John and let him know.”

“Sounds good. I’m going to stay here and hold this chair down so it can’t escape.”

“Try not to take all of the rookies’ money when they get the itch to play cards. They might need to buy some stuff like underwear or toothpaste this month.” Spalding patted the man’s shoulder as he strode out.

“No promises.” Donnie eyed each of the new recruits as they bragged about their times in the simulators and swapped stories of their conquests both on the battle field and with opponents of the opposite sex.

Spalding worked his way through the corridors until he found Little John’s quarters. He gave a light rap on the door before he opened it. John laid spread out on the undersized bed, a book in hand. “Just letting you know, I put the paperwork in. This time tomorrow you’ll be a permanent member of Second Squad.”

John sat up and set the book on the night stand. “You sure about this?”

Spalding nodded. “I’m sure.”

“Even though…you know, what I told you?”

He shook his head. “About what?”

“About Brooke. When I was little.”

Spalding took a deep breath and leaned against the doorjamb. “It wasn’t your fault, John. You did everything you could do. You were only ten.”